Love is louder.

I just watched the movie "Cyberbully" and honestly, it was way more than I expected.
I figured it would be a stereotypical, cheesy movie, but it wasn't in the slightest.
The acting was well done, the story line was great, and the way it was laid out was perfect.
Honestly, it left me with a heavy heart.
When I was in highschool, all the internet stuff was still fairly new. Bullying on there was done, but not nearly as common as it is now. And knowing how I felt with all the hate shot at me, I can't imagine how much more difficult it is now.
I had people tell me I was nothing, I had people tell me I was a hypocrite. I had people I thought were my best friends turn their back on me. I was left completely dejected and alone, and as I stared at the pieces in my hands, I was so confused as to what I did for life to get to that point. I just came to a new school, with hopes that it would be a great experience. Why was I finding myself like this? I tried my hardest to be the best person I could, and still people walked all over me and tried to shoot me down. I tried my best to just stay out of everyone's way, but still they found me. Nonchalantly telling me how I'm a loser, and how I'm never going to go anywhere or be anything with the way I am choosing to live life. It went around the school 4 times in 3 years that I was a lesbian, simply because I didn't date anyone and I hugged people.
People from my own church kept me at a distance, uncertain of what I really was, and if what these people said was true.
So what did I do? I became a cutter. I took knife or thumb tack, or screw, or safety pin, or razor piece, or screwdriver to skin and plastered the smile on my face again so no one would know anything was wrong.
After all, the only people I had let in to see that inside I was really broken were the people who kept turning against me.
Maybe I'm just too messed up for people, right?
No one knew. My sister read my journals and told my mom, who was in too much of a shock and hurting too much after losing her dad to believe her. After all, I told a pretty convincing story that I was just fine. I was in theater, I was an actress, of course I could convince people. It's what I did.
I made it through high school, bruised and very messed up, but I made it.
And now that it's been 8 years since I walked across that stage, do you know what I've learned?
I'm not too messed up.
In fact, it's not me whose messed up at all.
Those people who said and did such hurtful things, those people I thought were my friends, those people who made me feel that there was nothing else to do about it except slide blade across skin time and time and time again, only stopping short of ending my own life because I couldn't go back on the promise I made my dad after we left the funeral of my friend who had hung himself in his bathroom when I was just thirteen years old.
That there is hope. That I am going to make it and I am going to be successful. That those people who were causing me pain were really just in exponential pain themselves, so all they knew to do was what was done to them.
Sadly, most of them never grow up past what they were in high school. Some do. And some still have no idea that what they even did was hurtful. They just go with the flow of what's going on around them, thinking it's just a joke and not another lash on the back of someone whose already been beaten down.
So what can you do about it?
Live on purpose.
Make sure every move you make is one that you are willing to own up to if it came down to it. Pay attention to your actions, to how it affects people. Say and do kind things. You never know how badly someone is really hurting, even if it's the one who seems to be the strongest. Even if you would get made fun of for talking to that person. Do it anyway.
People need love, and sadly most are being starved of it.
Be that bread they so desperately need.
Live the difference that you want to see.
Keep a level head. Realize that you are no better than the person next to you, but that you have the potential to make a difference.
Even if you don't see it in the 13 years you have in the education system as a student, people see and feel and remember far more than you realize.
Leave a good taste in their mouth.
Love on purpose. You won't regret it.

Love is louder than hate, than rejection, than fear, than hurt, than painful words...
Love is louder.

Being sick sucks, and I don't think most people understand this.
I'm sure there are tons of things I don't understand, even some forms of sickness I don't understand, but this is really starting to take it's toll on me.
I can hardly function, at least fully. It makes me feel lazy, it makes me feel lethargic. It makes me want to stay away from other people who don't understand it.
But when it comes down to it, I'm not intentionally lazy, I just don't have the strength or energy to do the things I normally would be able to do.
This has been going on for so long, I'm beginning to forget what normal is like. It's starting to seem like this is the new normal, that I just have to accept it. That I have to adapt. That there's nothing that can be done about it.
So many times in life, that has been the case. Bad things happen, and I'm required to adjust.
I was looking through some pictures, and I came across ones from January. That's when I was the happiest with my size--since I've gotten over the eating disorder, and really purged my mind of all the thoughts that went with it. I was so happy because I was finally there.
Now what?
Do I just have to accept the fact that I'm the size I am? Do I have to just adjust to this added 25 pounds?
The added cellulite I see in the mirror, the extra rolls that have popped up everywhere, the fact that none of my clothes fit me correctly, the added arm fat. All these things that screamed at me before, and I overcame that. I adjusted to what a healthy size is for me. I was active. I was eating right. Then all of a sudden, weight comes on out of no where. And then nothing works to get it off. And now I fell so sick all the time that I can't find the energy to do anything extra, especially since just doing what is required is hard enough. If I let myself stop and think about what I really feel, it's enough to bring me to tears--it's so overwhelming. Not to mention when people try and tell me that I'm sick because I don't have enough faith. Seriously? I'm fighting every single day, and the best you have is that I need to pray more or believe harder? Excuse me, but you have no right to tell me that my spiritual life isn't enough. My fruit shows that it is. I don't know why God chooses not to heal me, but that's not my place. I told Him He could have me to do as He wills. Maybe there's someone that needs to be reached down the line and I just haven't gotten there yet. If it's for one person, then it's worth it.
I don't understand everything, I just do my best to make it through it.
It's difficult, I won't lie. I wish it were over, I wish I could make sense of it all, I wish that I could be guaranteed that things won't always be like this, but I'm not. I can't. It's not.
All I can do is go forward hopeful.

Please, God. Let this surgery be beneficial. Please let me get back to where I was. Help me be able to do the things I need to to get the results I need. Please help this new job help me take better care of myself. Please take all of the excess crap out, prune it from my life. I'm tired of it always pulling me back. Help me to stay strong through all of this, and when I'm weak, please be the strength I lack.

Instep

We had a big dance festival this weekend.
Is it pathetic that I've been away from my dance friends for not even a day and I already miss them? Like, I want to cry a little because there's this longing inside me to be immersed in the dance world. To be with those sweet friends, and laughing, and loving life.
I'll see them tomorrow, even. What makes this day so difficult?
Maybe it's the fact that I know I'm about to be out of dance for an unknown amount of time.
Maybe it's the longing of my youth to have been filled with such wonderful things as I see some of these girls have. Almost a regret that I couldn't have lived my life more fully.
But really, if I and my fellow twenty-somethings hadn't gone through our lives of seemingly simple-dom, would we be here to make sure these girls get to enjoy theirs so much? Would they have anyone to inspire them to greatness as they go through their classes? These girls are surrounded by so many people of quality, and I was able to see that shine through so many of the people I interact with Monday's and Thursday's. It's almost like they get to jump over the craziness that some of the older girls in the class seem to be tormented with. These girls get to have stability as their example, and seeing that striving for the greatness that is in them is fun. And in return, they are wildly successful. They are budding into beautiful dancers, and it brings me near tears to know that they have the beautiful character to match.
I love these girls with a love that can't be put into words. Almost as if they were my younger sisters.
This studio really is a family. And I am so beyond grateful to be a part of it.

<3 p="">

Quarter-Century Club

Well, here it is.
I'm twenty-five.
When I sit back and look at it from a general scope, I don't feel like I'm where I thought I would be.
I mean, what is really different about me since I was seventeen?
I haven't gone through any of the right-of-passages most have by this age.
I mean, really, I've never even been kissed. How many twenty-five year olds do you know that can say that?
I'm not married, I don't  have any kids, I don't have an impressive job, or even resume.
Shouldn't I have at least one of those checked off by now?
What would seventeen year old me say to this?
Would she be embarrassed?
Would she feel like moving forward would be hopeless?
Would she walk across that stage? Or run like emotions she suppressed told her to?
What would be the point of it all, anyway?
Has she gotten anywhere at all?

But then I think back to seventeen year old me.
More than just what the outside would tell someone.
That is when I can see how far I've come.

Even just in this last year, many things have come full circle.
I feel like I've been able to really bust out of the chains and bonds that have been holding me to who I was before.
I used to be so nervous all the time.
I was so insecure.
I was terrified of so many things;
People's opinions and perceptions of me,
How I appeared to the outsider,
If everyone liked me, and if not then why not?
Killing myself to be there for everyone else
Making sure everyone else was completely happy
Putting my dreams and ideas and hopes and everything else aside for anyone else.
Automatically accepting any thought that came in to my head, whether truth or not. If I thought it, it had to be true.
Struggling so hard to find my place.

When really, that place was in front of me the whole time.
I just had to learn how to put myself first.
I had to learn that this wasn't being selfish, that it was being wise.
I had to learn that there is a way to do that and be selfish, but that the line is one that can be identified and defined.
I had to learn to love myself; my quirks, my humor, my personality, my goals, my dreams, my fears, my desires, my dislikes, my opinions, and my love.
I had to learn how to define these things for myself, and not based upon who I was spending the most time with at the time.
I had to have the bottom fall out and learn who I truly am when push comes to shove.
I had to let everything fall apart so it would have room to come together the way it needed to be.
I had to be broken so I could be fixed. By God, and by no one else.
I had to face my fears and insecurities head on, look them in the eye and tell them, "You don't own or define me."
I had to realize that all I really have to rely on is Jesus and myself. No one else is obligated to me. If they help me, that's great. But I can't expect anyone to do anything for me. This also helped me define people in my life. Those who really love me won't have to be prodded to help. They'll do it from the goodness of their heart. If they didn't offer it, I can't require it, because then it doesn't come from goodness, it comes from obligation, and that only leaves you in a tough spot later down the line.
I had to decide to stop making excuses for things I wanted to try and accomplish, and do them simply to fill the longing deep inside.
I had to look fear in the eye until it submitted to me.
I had to see that clinging to Jesus is the best thing I can do, especially when things get hard.
I had to see and learn all of these things and more for myself.

I am a better person for it.

It took exactly twenty-five years for all of these things to be accomplished.
It took being stripped of everything to find what really is important.
It took losing everything to find that even so, God is still good and still with me and still taking care of me.
It took all of this for me to find who I am.
My core. My center.
To find myself, and truly love the person that I am.

Here I am, twenty-five.
And life is looking pretty hopeful.
I think the fight is finally over, and although I'll still have to fight every now and again, I am the person I need to be to handle and enjoy all that life has for me.

The tide has turned.
The switch has flipped.
The line has been drawn and stepped over.
With purpose.

I have signed off on the last page of the book of my first twenty-four years, and began writing on the twenty-fifth.
I'm excited to see what all it holds.
I love this life, and everything it brings.

Instead of getting upset over things I don't understand and have no control over, I choose to focus on positive things that are in my life.
I have people who care about me.
I have people who are concerned for me.
I have people who love me.
I have a job that works with my schedule.
I have options.
I have a God who loves me and wants what's best for me.

Honestly, if all I do is think about God and all He's done for me and all He is to me, it's enough to overcome any thoughts.

Believe it, Emilee. It's the truth.

Yesterday was my first ever Pointe class.
It was AWESOME! Sure, there was some pain, but it was nothing near what I was expecting. So I guess in this instance, psyching myself out was a good thing. :) I'm just so excited to get to take this next step in following my dreams in dancing. It makes me feel so alive.
During class, I heard my phone go off. Which was entertaining, considering my ringtone is the minions singing and everyone started giggling.
It was my doctor calling me to tell me the scans came back.
I'm fairly certain my gall bladder is coming out.
This is pretty inconvenient timing, considering we have a dance festival coming up in two weeks that I missed last year due to getting sent to Odessa for work. I don't want to miss it this year. A Soloist from Moscow is teaching a couple classes and I want to be in them...
Maybe they can hold off until October... That would be more ideal.
But I am ready to get this sickness out of me.

I gotta keep telling myself that even though it sucks that I'll be out of dance for a while, that it's better in the long run.

There are some things I journal that I'm sure I would be counted crazy for if any one else was to read it.
But those are the very things that are more real to me than anything tangible.

Maybe that's why I don't make sense to most people.