Pages

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Dancing Queen

I am the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen. 


I officially turned 17 a week ago, have celebrated with 9 of my dearest friends on top of a mountain, and decided that 17 feels no different.

I snapped some quick photos. None of any real worth artistically, but priceless nonetheless.

 

Who knows what 17 will hold for me? I don't, but I'm ready to find out. 




Thursday, January 1, 2015

2015




It's January 1st. 
It's technically January 2nd as I write this, but that's only because it's past midnight. 
So in my mind, it's January 1st. 

It's 2015. 
I am no longer associated with 2014. 
It's a new year, a clean slate.

I'm turning 17 in a week. 
It's funny, 17 is the age where you're expected to live the life of a pop song: mindless fun, no regrets, no consequences.
There is no way that's happening. 


If it's the first day of 2015, I should be making my first marks on my clean slate, right? 

But no. It doesn't feel like a clean slate. I don't know where people get the idea that when the clock strikes midnight, some huge transition happens and the world is new and full of opportunities. Last night I held my SOLO cup of sparkling grape juice, perched on the couch surrounded by people that matter so much to me, and I felt nothing for a precious few seconds. It's like I left my body and I watched myself follow the ball drop on the screen, look around, and stare again, dazed by the confetti and cheering crowd on the screen. 

This was 2015? It felt no different than 2014; I wanted so badly to have distance from this past year. I became disillusioned somehow. I thought that the fireworks and loud music and cheers would create a chasm between what I want to be and what I am. 

I told someone recently that I don't make New Year Resolutions. I explained further, expressing that it's sad to watch people fail at goals they set because they never really cared about them anyway; I hate huge group efforts to better ourselves - it should be a personal thing. That's what I said I hate about resolutions. 

But do you want to know why I really don't have any? Because there's nothing on the line, no danger. If you only lose 5 pounds instead of 7, nothing happens - you don't die, you don't get kicked out of some club, you have no real loss. It's a gross problem I have with myself, my lack of motivation, but that's how I am. If I have nothing I care about that will end up on the chopping block, there is no reason for me to worry about whether or not it gets done. And so if I set goals for myself with no consequences, they wouldn't be accomplished; that's called failure. Failure is something I hate. And then when I fail, I am washed in self-loath. 

So really, why would I set myself up for that cycle?

But this year will be different. I've set at least one goal for myself. 


This is me. 
Fresh out of the shower.
I have hair stuck between waves and curls. 
I've got thick eyebrows.
I like wearing mens shirts so that my body is enveloped in a disguise.
My lips are always cracked and bleeding no matter how much chapstick I apply. 
When my face is resting, it doesn't arrange naturally in a smile.

This is me.
 Raw. 
And that's what I want all of me to be this year - raw. I want my thoughts and my feelings and the way I express myself to be raw. I want my very soul to be its unrefined self. 


I will invest all of me into the things and people I have a passion for. 
I will learn to avoid opening up too quickly to people when I am nervous.
 I will build habits of spilling my thoughts onto paper and not let them congest in my mind to the point where I can no longer express myself. 


Most importantly, I will forgive myself because my God has. Even if I don't ever really feel it, he told the world that he forgives and loves us and I choose to trust that. 
Though it won't be easy, sometime soon I will forgive myself.



I was once raw in 2014. The difference is that I was worn raw by mistakes and people and my own folly. But that was yesterday, and if we don't speak of yesterday kindly,  why speak about it at all?


You know what? I take it back. Being raw is not a goal. It is not something I strive for, it is what I am.


Cheers to forgiveness, unrefined beauty, and a new year.