Today, I Believe It

I've just started, and I'm already pretty encouraged. So thanks, everybody, for reading, following, commenting, and so on.

I had a great day with the roommates today. We went shopping up at Flatirons and I got a dress for Leigh's wedding. It didn't feel all that special, really, when we were standing at the service desk in juniors with a crazy woman named Sandra who had the glitteriest (made that one up) nails I've ever seen in my life, along with at least eight rings on her hands. She was crazy.

But as we walked out to the car, I had a moment--one of those, when did I grow up? And how? thoughts. My best friend is getting married. I'm an aunt. I'm deciding what city is the best place to plant roots in for my next move, which has potential to be the last for a long time.

And I'm finally getting my ears pierced. (No, never got to that before, but we're going in a little bit.)

I'm a person who pauses to think about life pretty often, but I'm still pretty shocked at how much of it has happened. Every time. Seasons, moments, songs, births, photos...

It just gets me.

But it's exciting: the scary kind.

Leigh will get married and slide right into the next phase of her life--newlywed-student-teaching-dom. And Concha's going on a date, a double date. And Kris is working and Chip is graduating. Annie's in college. And all the CCU freshman year friends are around, or not. Dating or single or getting engaged or whatever it is they're doing.

It's all still happening. And I'm here in the scary exciting part, watching them, waiting with and for them. Waiting on love that might someday come, or not. A career, or an opportunity, or a chance at some way to impact a world outside my own. Scary exciting. And beautiful.

My sister said something to me today that meant more than she probably realized: "You're not the kind of person someone can just drop without a thought."

I take a healthy pride in the fact that someone would even say that. I'm worth investing in, worthy of love. I forget that sometimes.

There's been cuts in these years--in my skin, at my pride, of my teammates--but I realize that I'm not a part of what's been left behind. I'm here, right here, in these places: my room, my senior year, Colorado, about to start a second job, writing, finishing. I've made the cut in a lot of people's lives, even if I got cut from the eighth grade soccer team. And I'm more beautiful for it.

I love my sister. And my mom, who made us the way we are. And the rest of my family. And my roommates. And my best friends. And everybody I've ever met really, even the ones I wouldn't say I even liked.

That's cheesey, I know. Dr. Woodruff would have a fit and write "TRITE" -- just like that, but bigger, if I had ever handed those words in for an assignment in her class. Maybe even with an explanation point. But I can laugh at it, and this: Life is trite. We live in cycles and make choices day in and out that put us where we are, and a lot of times, we repeat the same mistakes, but eventually, we learn and look at ourselves in special moments when we say, "I'm beautiful, and today, I believe it too."

----

A new poem coming shortly too! Thanks for loving me, each of you.

And as always, thanks for reading.