Prayer Request

I fail so much when it comes to my faith, and I continually find myself grateful that I have a God who redeems such failings, and yet in me is a pride that I struggle to let go: the pride of not forgiving myself.

I am so prone to this, and even in my actions of prayerfully confessing all of my sins to the God I claim to love know forgives if only I ask, I struggle so profoundly and deeply with this issue. I have assurance, and yet, I fail to see it. I have security and yet I choose not to feel it or experience it. It’s a foolish sin, I know. A foolish thing to claim freedom in faith, and in the same breath struggle to claim it at all. Yet, it’s so human.

So I ask for prayer for this, from whoever is willing to take a moment and do so on my behalf. Thank you.


Raised to be the Husband

The look on his face told me that something was seriously not right, which is how even a minor crisis seems to be for him. “What’s up baby.” “My car won’t start.” I threw on my clothes and boots and … Continue reading


I’m just doing my job

“Are we having a meeting about how big Emily’s file sizes are?”  “What?”  “Emily sent a huge file through WeTransfer the other day. It’s too big. People don’t delete things off their computers and it takes up a lot of … Continue reading


I Suck at Friendship

I saw that she had tried to call me, about 15 min after we were supposed to speak. I had planned and reschedule on her already for our phone call, but once again, my brain failed me. Not that I had forgotten this time, but I had laid down for a nap with every intention of calling her on time, then proceeded to sleep through the alarm, then proceeded to wake up thinking I had woken up in time, then proceeded to fall back to sleep. I had felt terribly about it upon realizing that I had missed her call. So much so that I texted her back and tried to make up the lost time. 

Before I was married, I hardly forgot or missed a date. Now, it’s like I can’t set a date to save my life. I forget about it or I double book it or I just can’t seem to get myself together enough to make it on time. The worst part of it all, is that if I fuck up my own social life, I fuck up my husband’s. He knows so few people, and I’m the only one who contacts anyone to hang out because of it. His social life is entirely dependent on me. The introvert of the two of us. Ironic. 

I feel like I’m unintentionally pushing people away. I want to see them. I want to spend time with them. I care and love them very much. I just am so sucky at keeping plans since I got married. What’s worse is that I promised I wouldn’t do this to people. I promised that my marriage wouldn’t make me fall off the face of the earth, because it had hurt my feelings so much to have my friends do it to me. Yet, I’m so tired being at the beck and call of my workplace and then having to come home and be at the beck and call of my husband. There really is no such thing as introverting and down time anymore. I can’t have days where all I do is nap without interruption. I can’t have the silence, or the daydreaming I used to, or at least, not the same quality of it. It’s like my brain can never refresh fully because the presence of another human being is there, forever. It’s weird. I don’t like it. 

Part of me hopes this is temporary. Another part of me knows it isn’t. My husband is having a difficult time making friends of his own in the area. So he relies on me to make them for him. So here I am juggling the social life of an extrovert. Tired. Exhausted even. Neglecting my friends who are single for the couples I had so long also been neglected by until I was no longer single. I feel like I’ve only been married for a few months and the only respite I got out of it was a buissness meeting to IL(which was super fun and I really ought to write a blog post about it, but I’m not sure I’ll get to it), which doesn’t sound relaxing at all, but was a nice step outside of my husband’s life for an overnight, and a refreshing step back into my own world. A very clear step of only having to worry about myself again. The way it used to be. 

All that sounds super selfish. I’ll admit it probably is. Which makes me feel like a shitty person. I don’t feel like I should play mother like this. I don’t feel like I should be responsible for my husband’s play dates. I’m hardly good at being responsible for my own. To be honest I really haven’t had my own play date in a long time. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I need to have my own separate friends again, the ones who aren’t another couple. Individuals I can keep in touch with and have all my own. Knowing myself though, I’d probably forget those dinner dates and such as well. Maybe I’m just destined to be a shitty friend forever. 


Deadlines, Assembly lines, and Waistlines 

Since starting my full-time job as a graphic designer, I’ve found myself relying on reading energy. The energy of people, the energy of a room, the energy of collaboration. Trying to gauge how much energy people are investing into projects. … Continue reading


People Suck

Why can’t people just be happy for her? It was her third marriage. People kept reminding her and anyone else who would listen to their mouth flap. Yes, it was her third, not that the number counted toward or against … Continue reading


Yellers and the Yelled at

I closed the door. I wasn’t ready to listen to it again. Another shouting match going above and beyond the normal debate of fighting, and into the name calling and scathing comments about each others intelligence. I couldn’t take it. … Continue reading


The Stats

I hate looking at the Stats on my WordPress dashboard. Not because I find them discouraging, but annoying. Taunting. I feel like it’s trying to quantify my worth. To tell me that this number of followers means you’re worth something … Continue reading



Have you ever cried in a thrift store before? I couldn’t say that I had until that afternoon. It was cold. Rainy. The fall leaves almost burned your retinas they were so bright against the cloudy sky. I told mom … Continue reading


Hitting Walls

“I almost feel like political correctness is the new terrorism.” I blurted out. I could tell she had already written me off, so what was the point? “Oh no honey, political correctness is just being polite.” “No. It’s not. Being … Continue reading