There Goes a Fighter

Life is about the mess-ups. The screw-ups. Falling down. The scars, emotional and physical. The pain, the hurt, the heartache.

It is these less than perfect moments that mold us into who we are. It is how we learn, it is what strengthens us, builds us up, causes us to become wiser and able to face what comes our way.


I've mentioned several times before that I am judged. But I am also accepted. I think, this year, the biggest step I've taken in my life and in helping me grow, is to accept who I am. I feel like eyes are on me, expecting me to be perfect, yet breaths are held, just waiting for me to fall and to fail.  People who disagree with my life choices, who are watching me, thinking that I WILL fail because they think I am not in alignment with God.

I see my friend Amy as she struggles with criticism and a lack of understanding as she embarks on a journey to a new country. People who watch her, expecting her, wanting her to fail.

I see my friend, a girl who chose a career over motherhood and how she is attacked for being ungodly...being watched by people who expect to see her fail because she's not following the supposed "will of God" for her life.

I see another friend who is seen as different and lives in sin for his life choices. I see the people around him, watching him, waiting for God to "strike him down".

I see a dear friend struggling with health issues and yet not letting that control her.

I see a kindred spirit pushing through physical restraints to accomplish her dreams.


What do I see in these friends? I see fighters. I see fear, judgment, pain, hurt, criticisms, scars, screw-ups, and heartache all faced with brave faces and strong wills yearning to overcome anything for lives meant to be lived. I see fighters fighting against the norm, fighting against the crowds boo-ing against them, all because they feel called to something. I see fighters living LIFE.

And I am inspired, I am filled with hope, I am encouraged by these people. I am drawn to them, I am in love with their bravery.

To you brave people in my life and to those of you out there who push through the hardships and to myself, I say,

Give em hell, turn their heads

Gonna live life til we're dead.

Give me scars, give me pain

Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me

There goes the fighter, there goes the fighter

Here comes the fighter

That's what they'll say to me, say to me, say to me,

This one's a fighter

Gummy Bear's Picnic

My friends will tell you...I have a decent sense of humor.  I find shows like Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, Raising Hope, and Community funny. I find kids funny and how they talk and the weird stuff they say. I find comic strips to be funny. (My favorite's Zits. And Pearls Before Swine.)

But when I combine my love of gummy bears with humor, I seem to creep people out. This is the beginning of what I hope to be a series of gummy bear humor. 

The teddy bear's picnic has never been so gummy...I mean, yummy. 

Revenge is sweet. Literally. 

Bounty Hunter with piercing eyes.

I crack myself up. :)

Part 3: I Am Loved

As I said already, even I struggle with accepting someone, showing them tolerance when they are so very different from myself. It's hard in those moments when you really don't understand why someone is the way they are, or why they make decisions as they do. But sometimes, when you make the deep connection of true, real friendship, you just *do*...there's no thought or question in your mind that you will accept them, you will tolerate them, because they are your bosom friend. 

Amy already shared with you her side of our story, now I am going to share mine. 

Amy was right...we are very different. And yet somehow it works. When I first met Amy, she had become a new member of a girls' only forum I ran. I intimidated her (me! intimidating HER of all people!!) and she...well, I distinctly remember thinking she and her sister were the two sweetest girls I'd ever met. So sweet that it didn't feel POSSIBLE. Boy, was I wrong. ;) It is possible. But that sweetness also hides a mischievous nature and an abundance of silliness. 

We both struggled as teens, discovering who we were, trying to become the perfect godly women we *should* be, and often we would nearly headbutt over how to go about that. Almost. But never quite. Because even during that time of being completely different, we tolerated each other. We accepted each other. All because we loved each other. 

I remember the one time where we each were intent on converting the other. And we agreed to present our case to each other. I sent her a book on keeping the Saturday Sabbath and Biblical Feast Days. She sent me the DVD of "Amazing Grace: The History & Theology of Calvinism". I laugh now, looking back...the two of us so determined not to be changed but wanting to be tolerant, and both of us digging into each other's beliefs to debate with each other at a later time. I remember our discussion after we both read/watched each other's book/dvd. I was growing frustrated that Amy wasn't appearing to understand and then I realized...she was probably thinking the same thing about me. And then it changed for me. I learned to accept that it was okay. 

That wasn't the true test of our acceptance for one another. In fact, when the true test came, I didn't even see it as a test. But looking back, I see how much I put Amy through and my heart just overflows that she stuck through the worst of times...for me. 

My best friend died. Quite suddenly and the impact of it all caused me to break down. In just a matter of days, I shoved everyone out of my life to grieve on my own. The sympathy, the love, the desire people had to show me they cared and wanted to talk and wanted to be there for me drove me crazy. I could not stand it. And I remember getting so angry and frustrated that Amy would not leave me alone. I was so blinded by my depression that I could not see that she was genuinely concerned for me. That she loved me so much that she wanted to stand with me while I hurt. Over and over and over again, I kept pushing her away. And it hurt her. So much. Now, it breaks my heart that it did. 

But. She did not give up on me. She waited. And when I finally let her back in my life, my testing her hadn't ended. I had changed through my depression. I was a completely different person. I'm sure I was overly-serious to the point of being obnoxious, I was even more blunt and I probably had a "I don't give a shit" kind of attitude toward the world. 

She accepted me, all the same. All because she loved me. 

To this day, Amy and I are still vastly different in so many ways. Seriously. How can my bestie love "The Newsies"?? THE NEWSIES! And Justin Bieber! *facepalm* And yet, if you talk to her, she'll say, "How can MY bestie love 'Harry Potter'??? And 'Napoleon Dynamite'??"

Oh, gosh, can she STILL drive me crazy! This girl is the energizer bunny compared to my tortoise self. She is always going going going, no matter what. And I am the evil Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde if I don't get enough sleep! Man, this girl puts up with so much crap from me, it's ridiculous! Oh, yes, and the creepy way she gets me to sing Taylor Swift in the car is just...embarrassing. I don't know how she does it.

But you know what? It doesn't matter. As the days and years go by, we seem to grow more alike in what is important. And when you agree on what's important and when you learn how to accept and tolerate differences, nothing holds you back in creating a beautiful friendship. 

Amy. This wonderful girl is amazing. She listens to my every rant with nothing but love and encouragement. She prays for me, no matter what the issue is. When we talk about getting together, she never puts it off. She is always ready to commit to a plan. We connect every. single. day, whether it be text or Facebook. People think friendship can last through random visits and sporadic chats. And maybe it can. But a best friendship lasts because of the strong commitment between two people. Amy is committed through not just the good times but the worst of times. She never gives up on me. And you don't know how that makes me cry. To be so accepted because of a strong love. 

Amy doesn't judge me. In fact, I learned through her example what true acceptance looks like. True acceptance is unconditional love. Do you know how rare it is to receive unconditional love? I thought about it and realized just how FEW people in my life right now love me unconditionally. How FEW friends love me unconditionally. And pretty much at the top of the list is Amy. 

I am going to make a reference that Amy won't get since she is so not a nerdy person who watches Doctor Who. *AHEM* *COUGH* *LOOKS POINTEDLY AT HER* 

But Amy, my bestie, so to speak, really is "...the girl who waited". She waited for me through the bad time and was still there when I returned to her. Her friendship, her sweetness, her acceptance, and most importantly, her love was stronger than ever. 

Do I understand her, with all her energy and silliness and her intense dislike of coffee (seriously, how are we even friends??)? Not always. But her love for me and her acceptance of me reaches beyond the petty things. And that is what connects us. Our love and acceptance for each other. Amy taught me to love unconditionally as a best friend. A love so strong that not even separation, whether it be caused by depression or bodies of water, can end it. 

Amy accepts me. And I know that because of her, I am loved. 

Part 2: I Am Accepted

Part 2 is written by guest poster, Amy, on the topic of acceptance. 

Acceptance - it's something that we hear about all the time in this culture. And for the most part we think we do - sure - I accept that person who is different then me. But when it really comes down to it, do we really understand the true meaning of acceptance? Do we understand what it means to have someone close to us - like a best friend let's say, who is very different then us, and believes differently than us, who likes different things, who has a different personality, and be able to accept them for the person God made THEM to be. To accept them even when they drive us crazy or believe things that we don't. When they do things we don't agree with - do we know what it is not to judge them but to embrace that person and love that they ARE different from us?

I have a few girls who are my best friends - we are all totally different. And yet, somehow we stick together through it all. We can stick together because we love each other and accept each the other for who she is - not for who we think they SHOULD be. We don't try to change each other or judge the other when they believe differently or do something we don't agree with.

I want to talk specifically about one of my very best friends. You probably know her at least a little bit if you are reading this blog ;) But you probably don't really know her like I do - so I'll introduce you - her name is Sam. NOT Sammy (If looks could kill I'd be dead right now for the looks I've gotten for calling her this one ;)). Sam is an awesome person and friend - she has been there for me through a lot of stuff. We met when I was about 16-years-old and she had just graduated from high school. I was very legalistic and she and I believed very differently - about pretty much everything. Looking back neither of us were comfortable in our own skin, but we both were trying to pretend we were. I'm dead certain God was the One who made us friends because otherwise how could two people so different end up being such good friends? Sam was a godsend to a girl who barely had any friends, who didn't have her own real opinions on things yet. 

Like I said - Sam and I are very different - throughout the years we have grown up a lot and we believe a lot more alike now then we ever did, but most of our friendship I would say we have disagreed on beliefs. We even disagreed on movies (still do - I often like movie's she likes but she often hates movie's I love ;)). Yet somehow we can tell each other everything, and even when we were young we accepted each other - we'd disagree but underneath it all we always know that the other one will still love us. 

That doesn't mean we don't have hard times in our friendships or that we don't drive each other crazy. Honestly, sometimes she makes me want to pull my hair out. There was even a time when I didn't know if our friendship was going to make it - and honestly I felt like crying every day during that time. And yet looking back at even that time I realize that God brought us through that for a reason - I know He was teaching her stuff and He taught me a LOT about accepting and loving a friend - being a best friend - even when I wasn't sure some days. To make me realize to be best friends means that sometimes you have hard times - but you stick through it and accept the other person no matter how different then are. During that time she changed rather fast, I felt like I couldn't keep up - granted I changed a lot over the last several years, but my changes I felt were slower (maybe because I was living them?) - she changed faster and I have to re-learn things about her and her personality and beliefs that weren't there before - or that I hadn't been able to see before. Yet when we came out of that time of learning and changing we both still were there - Sam was still there. We had never abandoned each other. We were different, but we were still ourselves - in fact we now are more ourSELVES then we ever were before. Because of what we went through it made us stronger and closer. 

We now can encourage and accept each other when no one else seems too. We know the other won't judge us by the movies we watch, the songs we listen too, the words we use. If we are mad or hurt or upset and need to rant - we know we can go to each other because it doesn't matter what we say or do - the other person will still be there. We can be ourselves. When we are going through hell in our lives at the end the other person will be waiting. 

We are so different, but that's good - we sharpen each other. We have a blast with each other and it's ok we are different. 

We are so different but underneath it all we LOVE each other like crazy - I can't imagine life without her. And when you love someone it makes it easy to accept them because you get excited to see how the other person is changing and finding themselves. You get excited when they come to you with some new thing they love (even if you hate it personally like *cough cough* HP ;)). 

Learn to accept each other, because God made each of us differently. But He also made us to need each other. Knowing Sam has taught me so much. She taught me to branch out - to let go of legalism. To become my own person. To do what I wanted to do in life. Being her friend taught me to accept others for who they are and to love the gifts God has given them.

Do I always understand her or why she does certain things or believes certain things? No. But I accept her. I'm proud of her. I love her no matter what. And I know she does too (because if she didn't we'd be in trouble cause I'm really quirky and weird once you get to know me ;)). 

Love you Sam - I have no clue what I'd do without you and I'm glad God gave us the grace to stick through our friendship because my life would suck without you! 

Watch for Part 3: I Am Loved

Part 1: I Am Judged

I am judged.

Wherever I go, I run into people who place judgments on me. I run into people who believe it is their "duty" to bash a Bible over my head, who feel it's "right and good" to shame and guilt me...to place me inside a box and tape the lid over my head. I run into people who take it upon themselves to implicate that I am not a Christian.  That because I live my life differently, then I am in sin.

The other day, I had a friend message me to tell me I was shameful for pinning photos of girls in bikinis on my Pinterest. "Supporting girls who dress slutty like prostitutes gives people an impression of yourself."   
I am judged for photos. And for the way I dress.

I've been told it is dangerous to read certain books. I am judged for reading Harry Potter, Pride & Prejudice and Zombies, Narnia, Lord of the Rings.
I am judged for what I read.

I've been told music with any kind of beat is of the devil. And I have been told that listening to Katy Perry, Rihanna, Avril Lavigne, and other such "godless feminists" only encourages me in a life away from God.
I am judged for the music I listen to.

I've been told I will no longer be pure if I use "swears" such as "hell" and "shit" and "damn".
I am judged for words.

I've been told that to watch a movie with a PG-13 or higher rating means that I am filling my life with filth.
I am judged for what I watch.

I receive emails, letters, private messages from girls (and guys) telling me that I appear "too blunt", "as a feminist", "too out-spoken". As a woman, I am supposed to be soft-spoken, demure, quiet, and just keep my mouth shut.
I am judged for who I am.

I have been told I live a legalistic life...I've been told I'm much too liberal, that I am not living my life according to God's way. I have been told out-right I am in sin, I have been told underhandedly that I need to rethink my life.
I am judged for what I believe.

That is what life is...

I have gone through my life feeling like I don't fit in, that I SHOULD fit in. As a teen, I felt like my very nature was all wrong. I felt that I was too loud, too obnoxious, too opinionated...and that people didn't like it. So I gave in, I tried to fit myself into other people's boxes. I tried to be quiet, and keep my mouth shut, and reject what I truly believed. I tried because I was a people pleaser. But it never stuck. Always, my true personality would make it's way out...I am not a quiet person when it comes to stating my opinion, and I am very opinionated. And when I believe something, I believe it hard.

I am told I'm not spiritual enough. My spiritual walk is just that. Mine. It is special, it is unique, it is personal. It is mine. What I discuss with God, what He says to me...it is treasured. And I don't need to share everything with the world. I've had people tell me to read certain Bible verses, listen to certain sermons, certain songs, read certain books...all because they doubt my Christianity, doubt that I am strong in my faith.

It is hard. And it wears me down.  My sister told me, "Right now, I think you need to be loud, but it does have a downside. You attract the judgers as well as people who agree." 

"Friends"...those of you who judge me, I have something I want to share with you.

I love God with my whole heart. Just because I listen to certain music, read certain books, watch certain movies, say certain words, believe certain things...just because I am different from you, doesn't mean God loves me less. 

I want you to know, I am not easily swayed. When I believe something, it is because I considered it long and hard. God is very much present in my life decisions.

I want you to remember...I am human. Yes, I fail in my walk with God. Yes, I mess up. But I am only human. Words and actions and judgments still hurt. You have no right to try to change me. It is not your place. I know I can fail and judge others too. I am guilty of it myself. But I want to share with you the quote that I constantly remind myself.

"When I think of my own failings, it allows me to look at others with tolerance and acceptance and forgiveness." 

I am not asking you to agree with me on my lifestyle or the choices I make. I am asking, if you are trying to be a true friend, put forth tolerance and acceptance. And I will extend you the same courtesy. In fact, I will try to extend the same courtesy even though you don't extend the same to me.

I know I will always be judged. It's what happens when someone publicly says or does anything differently. I expect it. But today I want to encourage tolerance and acceptance. I want to encourage grace.

I am judged but it's not going to change me.  I am who God made me to be.  I am where He wants me to be.  I am working on the woman He created me to be.  And I have accepted that.  Can you?




Watch for Part 2: I Am Accepted

365

Day 144:

Quote of the Night

Day 145:

Driving past wet fields

Day 146:

Oh yes I did. ;) 

Day 147:

Happy B-day K!

Day 148:

"I am a piranha from the AMAZON!" 

Day 149:

Waiting for Gen-Gen so we can do our 3-mile walk

Day 150:

D'aww, it's a family now!

Day 151:

Here's a group I love!

Day 152: 

So much giddiness...

Day 153:

Love em. 

Day 154:

Gotta love A. A. Milne!

Day 155:

I work so hard. :P 

Day 156:

Morning run

Day 157: 

Books!

Day 158:

I like to Shoot. Yes indeedy. 

Day 159: 

June isn't June til the roses come out.

Day 160:

Coffee with my morning facebook!

Day 161:

Reading while waiting for din-din

"Writers are desperate people..."

For each book I finish reading, I bring home two more. It's a vicious, never-ending circle. And I love it.

So much of my reading stacks these days are made up of children's and young adult novels. Why? Two reasons really...I read when I'm tired these days, and the last thing I want is a particularly deep book that needs my entire mind to focus on. (No, I save those books for when I'm most energized in my mind!) Instead I choose children's and young adult books because of my love for them. The simple yet meaningful or total fluff and fun! stories that you can get totally sucked into, no matter what age you are.

But most importantly, I have been immersing myself into the world of young adult novels because I am writing a young adult novel. Part of the whole process of writing this novel has me digging deep into the mind of young, teenage Sam as well as reading book after book of young adults struggling with some issue in their lives. The language, the culture, the thought-process...it's like research for a  fictional story. On top of all that I have also dug out my own journals from ages 16-20 and oh the flood of memories comes back! Experiencing those feelings all over again, understanding, sympathizing with, and cringing at my old self. I went through those same novel-like moments of struggling to discover who I am.

In the odd yet brief, free moments that I have when I'm not reading, I am writing. My novel is coming along so slowly because the words have to be right with this novel. The understanding and opinions and attitudes of my characters...the struggles...all of it has to be as real as possible. But a little bit every other day or so, several sentences are added and the more I get to know my characters, the more I relate to them.

Isn't that why we read in the first place? We relate and yet it's not real...merely a distraction from life.
I won't lie, I have thought several times of giving up on this novel because I feel like I relate too much with the characters, and because all this reading and digging back into my past has brought back hard memories as well as pleasant ones.  But there is a side to me, the teenage Sam who wants this novel to be written. A book about young people who struggle and grow and crave understanding. It is a novel that must be written. So, here I am, comfortably situated on the couch, pillows behind my back, Pandora playing, and a cup of tea nearby as I let the words slip from fingers to keys. I know it won't be a great novel and most likely will never be published, but it will be mine. It is already mine...words that are a part of me in a way that some people cannot understand. And even if no one ever reads it, I know there will be a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction once I've finished this novel, because I am a writer and sometimes there are words that just need to be written.

Isn't that why writers write, after all? It's not because we love it, although we do...there are days where we absolutely loathe writing. It's not because we are passionate about words, although we are...there are days where we passionately wish we'd never write another word. It's because we must. However, I find that people assume that because I'm a writer that I write everyday. Normally, this is true...these days I tend to write every day, either in the form of a letter or a blogpost or a journal entry. However, I can go weeks, even months without writing a single word for myself. This is especially true during a school semester. I get over-loaded with essays and papers and assignments for school writing that my desire for any other writing becomes burnt out. Do I believe a writer has to write everyday to be a writer? No, I don't. I think a writer writes when he or she simply needs to. If there is the desire to write and you follow up on that desire, you are a writer, in my book.

Tell me, why do you write? What do you write? Perhaps the words come out in a trickle or in a steady stream. Perhaps they appear once every blue moon or perhaps every day. I am not a strong writer in the sense that my writing is spectacular, nor do I fool myself to believe that many people read this blog or enjoy it. But I write because the words come. More often than not they come messily and in a confused ball that seems to just spew out of my mind.

So, yes, please, tell me, why do you write? Share something with me, ask about guest-posting on my blog! Share your blog! Share a novel, a poem, a journal entry...anything! I am intensely curious about other writers who write because they must.

Butter vs. Cheese

Debate of the day: Butter versus Cheese. 

We all know that butter and cheese are both delicious additions to the food world. Think about it...all the food you love! Pizza, cheese & crackers, grilled cheese, cheese-burgers, quiche, lasagna...all that cheese, thick, stringy, delish!

And butter! Think of EVERYTHING you make with butter!! Baking, frying, bread, cakes, veggies, main dishes, side dishes, desserts...it's in *everything*. Even just spread on a piece of bread! Nom! 

Now the debate here is: If forced to choose between the two, which would you choose to give up for the rest of your life? Me? Well, I'm inclined to think I'd give up cheese, in spite of how much I love it. Merely because butter is in everything and I constantly crave just simple bread and butter. Let's hope I'm never forced to give up one or the other. But what about you? Which would you choose? 

Acting Mom on Duty

I've been the Acting Mom on Duty this past week, and I've been discovering things that I've never known before.

Who knew that 6 kids can go through 3 gallons of milk in a week and who knows how many loaves of bread. And who knew how many petty, stupid fights could be created over the most mundane things. Like over whether or not a character did something in a film. *headdesk*

There are the moments where the teenagers resist being told to keep up with their chores, or to go to bed at a decent time, or to not leave a mess after themselves....then there are the moments when the little kiddos scream at each other and even pull each other's hair (oy vey) and argue about which movie to watch.

But beyond that, what are the perks of being Acting Mom? The cuddles from the two youngest girls, spontaneous ice cream nights, movie nights, painting nails, special trips to the library to pick out books and movies, and jokes while cleaning...including "the happy dance" (don't know it? Shame. It's happy!).

There's nothing more comforting or special than the feeling of  lil 5-year-old slipping her hand into your's or the looks you share as you smother bowls of ice cream with chocolate syrup. And even better are the dorky exchanges between little siblings.

Short Stuff #1: What's for dessert?
Sam: Cupcakes...
Short Stuff #2: YAY!
Short Stuff #1: You don't like the frosting.
Short Stuff #2: I like the cake.
Short Stuff #1: But there's the frosting on the cake.
Short Stuff #2: SO I'LL LICK IT OFF FUHST! DUH.

Do I enjoy being Acting Mom? Not for the most part, but it has it's moments in between all the insanity.

Create a Life

I recently got into a discussion about single young women. And one girl said something that stuck out particularly to me.

"We need a life to share with someone else instead of waiting for a guy to come along with all the put-togetherness."

How true is this? I come from a conservative background where books like I Kissed Dating Goodbye and When God Writes Your Love Story and Boy Meets Girl, as well as the ideals of courtship were promoted. I had friends who preached the necessity of a girl living at home until she was married and the evils of working outside as a single girl.

To this day, in conservative circles, the idea that a girl should stay at home and assist her father and brothers in pursuing their dreams is heavily pushed upon every young woman. I reject these ideas because this implies that God has created robot women, each one exactly alike with the same exact talents and gifts to be used in the same exact way. I believe in a God that created individuals not just genders or gender roles.

That having been said, I believe in creating a life for myself, based on the calling God has for me. If a girl sits around doing nothing with her life while waiting for a man who may never show, then she has wasted a perfectly good life. If a girl was meant to wait for a man to begin her life, then why wasn't she born the day of her wedding? The fact is, a man doesn't need to put together a life for himself AND then create a life for the girl he loves in order for him to marry her.  A girl doesn't need a man to create a life for her. She has the tools and gifts to do so for herself right at her fingertips. If a man cannot fit into the life that a woman has built for herself according to the calling God has led her on, then he is not. worth. it. A woman needs a man whose life is compatible with her own. God didn't create us to place man, a husband, as the center of our lives. He didn't create us to place a man and his life above all else, above the gifts and calling God has given to us individually. And while some say that this can fit into the form of a housewife and homemaker and mother, it doesn't always. Some women aren't called to that life.

Waiting to build a life around a husband is a waste. It is creating an idol out of  a husband. We can have absolutely marvelous lives if we'd only stop sitting around, waiting for a man who could possibly never show up on our doorsteps. I am an individual, a woman called to do something with her life. And if a man wants to enter this life, he has to be compatible with it, just as my life needs to be compatible with his. And in this way, I am not wasting my life away nor am I obsessing over an idol of a man, a husband.

If we create a life for ourselves, this does not mean that all men will be scared away nor that there won't be any room for a husband. Yes, perhaps it won't work out with the lives of a lot of men, but as Amy March said, "You don't need scores of suitors. You only need one. If he's the right one." Create a life that you're called to create...a life you can share not give up. 

Happiness

The art of battling fake happiness.

I mentioned two posts ago about Sam, at 17, who would fake her way to perfection. Real emotions were hidden and happiness faked. The sad thing about my life is, that it has become much too easy for me to give into a way of faking happiness. Once you accomplish the art of faking happiness, it can soon become a replacement for one's impression of genuine happiness.

Fake happiness is just that, fake. There is no real joy, it is all smiles and laughter and jokes made for disguise. A disguise for the real emotions that lie at heart.

Sometimes, I find myself faking the happiness to indeed get to real happiness. But what happens when you become so accustomed to faking it so much? You tend to forget what is real and what is not.

I battled depression, still battle depression, for going on two years now. And that is when I mastered faking it. Today, I am learning the art of discovering happiness.

How can one discover happiness? Isn't happiness just something that happens? Isn't it a feeling that just occurs when you actually are just happy?

Maybe it is, and often it does occur naturally. But the most wonderful thing about happiness is that it can be discovered. Stumbled upon. 

It's the art of seeing the bright side, accepting the bright side, and rejecting anything else that is less than real.

It is seeing the beauty in the simple things, allowing yourself to enjoy, not holding yourself back.

Happiness is...two kinds of ice cream...
It is...sunshine on a cloudy day...

It's a cup of coffee, a pair of jeans that fit just right, a heart-felt conversation, a time of waiting, a time of action...

Happy June 1st. Go and find some happiness.