they don't teach you to write letters to yourself;

My whole life I have written letters to people.
The second I learned how to fill out an envelope and put a stamp on it, I sent letters.
I had a pen pal once.
I wrote to my best friend when she moved in elementary (no cell phones for children back then).
I wrote my friend who disappeared to her dad's in the summers.
I wrote to my friends that served LDS missions.
I wrote to one of my dearest friends when she was finding herself in Washington.
And I wrote letters to God when I was losing myself.

I write letters to my fiance.
And I've started to write letters to myself.

What? I know. That probably sounds a little crazy. Almost like when people talk out loud to themselves in the grocery store and everyone gives them a weird look.

But I have always been one that's bad at journaling.
I'll be good for like a whole week, or maybe a whole summer, and then I just get so tired of repeating everything I've done!

And writing letters to yourself is kind of like writing a journal.

I write letters to my future self, my past self, or my present self. To help me to remember to be kind to myself, to have patience, and to be happy.

So I think this blog will be officially that.

Just letters written by a 21 year old girl to herself.

P.S.

the happiest of happy

For some reason it's been so hard for me to write a blog post lately.
Almost every night I sit and stare at the computer screen for ten minutes and then decide to put it away. Because there has been so much going on and I can't always find the words to comprehend how I'm feeling.

Because one day I'm getting excited about summer semester and the next second I find out that my student loans have been denied without any warning. (FYI college and government loans are shiz sometimes and there is a bunch of illegal stuff you shouldn't do THAT THEY DON'T WARN YOU ABOUT.) Idiots.

And then the next second, I'm going to summer semester and everything is okay.

And then we realize that we can't pay for a New York honeymoon because we are paying for summer semester. And I'm devastated all over again.

And the next second we're at Lagoon and we think: why not Disneyland for a honeymoon?
Because who doesn't love Disneyland?  IT'S THE HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH. If you don't love it, you're just as bad as my student loans and college.
Sorry not sorry. 

Sorry not sorry for using a cliche term.


And now we've decided to go to New York when we are both finished with school as a graduation present.
Because what's better than a New York graduation present? Nothing.





And sometimes I change my major a bunch of times (from teaching to criminal justice to political science) to finally land on something that was sitting in my childhood all along.

And now I'm content.

Although I've used "And" to start almost all of my sentences and it's making me want to gag a little.

Oh, there you are.

OKAY so I have been inspired from a lot of things this week. But last night I was reading a girl's instagram posts--Rachel Brathen aka yoga_girl. She experienced her best friend's death a few weeks ago (I cannot even imagine) and I stumbled upon this post which made me cry endlessly.

"You are gone but you are not. I have taught only two classes since you passed away and Savasana is almost unbearable. Your presence has been so strong. At the end of Saturday's class I had everyone put their hands to their hearts and as I walked around giving small adjustments, I realized...you are in every single person here in this room. I adjusted a girl's shoulders, she has a wooden earring in one of her ears. Just like you. Another girl has a dread, just one, nestled in her messy hair. Just like you. One person is smiling, just like you. Someone has toes that remind me of yours. A mat the same color as the one you always had in your bedroom. "Look!" you told me one day. "I bought a good yoga mat! Finally!" I looked at it and laughed, "no, you didn't honey. This is a crappy mat. You'll slip!" You frowned: "But it was $20!" When I told you a good mat will cost you at least $50 you looked at me like I was joking. "$50 for a yoga mat??? Tss. You super yogis are so picky. I'll use this one forever and it will be good you'll see." And you did. It's broken and dirty and smells a little bit like mold but you used that thing everyday. And I held it in my arms all the way from San Jose to Aruba but I still haven't rolled it out at home. I can't. It's leaning against the altar I made you, waiting for a time when I'll be able to think of these things and still stay sane but I'm not sure that time will ever come. But in that Savasana two days ago I saw you in every person in that room. And for every person I touched I felt you even more and at one point I felt my tears drip onto the girl beneath me and she grabbed my hand. She looked me straight in the eye and said "it's okay" and I knew right then: that was you, too. She came up to me after class with tears in her eyes. "I lost my husband, I am where you are." And I am understanding now more and more that we are all the same. We are all sisters. We're in this together. If you are in everyone that means you are in me also and that means you never really left. It's the only comfort I have and it's beautiful."

If that doesn't just make you weep, I don't know what will.

Throughout my life I have seen death come. Sometimes quickly, unannounced, other times slowly and patiently. But it comes.



It's hard and painful and that's all I'm going to say.




But then, days or months or years pass, and you begin to see things.
 
I can randomly take a breath of air and smell the same bush that was in my grandparent's yard. I can smell my grandmother's perfume she wore, and I will always be able to hear her laugh in my sister's laugh. And sometimes, I will randomly hear my uncle's voice say, "Talor," as he did when I was little--like when he was about to tell me to play a prank on my mom. And I will never forget my grandpa's voice when he would tell me I'm beautiful. I will always be able to feel his light hugs and my grandma's nimble fingers on my face.

And that knowledge is peaceful and full of love and spirit and connectedness.
I realize now more than ever that we are never alone. Not ever.

Because we are all human. We are all connected, and we really are in this together.


 They haven't really left.





 In fact, they've been in your heart all along,

and they will stay there.

A Letter to Myself

 Dear Me,

I cannot expect my body to be overly muscley, stick thin, or perfectly perfect. Why should it be? Will it make more people love me? No. Will it really make me happier? Probably not. Does it really matter? Not in the long run.

The women I look up to, who I inspire to be, I inspire to be not for their thigh gap, their toned arms, or their perfect body. I look up to them for their determination, their strength, their ability to love and to laugh and to be courageous. There is no correlation between thigh gaps and courage. So I should stop treating it as though it will give me such.

The man I want to love me for eternity will not love me more for having perfectly shaped legs or a perfectly flat stomach. Because eternal love is unconditional love, and he will love me when I work out and he will love me when I gain 5 pounds. Why? Because a flat stomach doesn't give me love and respect. Because a thigh gap doesn't tell you how lovely my personality is. Because there is no correlation between love and perfect curves. So I will stop treating it as though it will give me such.

 And how sad that I should be so harsh on my own body? The body that wakes me in the morning and puts me to rest at night.
The body that cradles my soul.

So, instead of striving towards a thigh gap, or for sleek arms, or a flat six pack, I will wish for other things.

I will wish to always have legs that can carry me up into the mountains and back down to my home. I will wish for lungs that make it so I can laugh for hours and run for miles. I will wish for arms that hug perfectly and cradle little souls. I will wish for a backbone that stands straight and firm. I will wish for hands that can always paint and inspire.

Because those things create love, laughter, determination, strength and courage.

Breathe.




I deserve love--whether I'm perfect or not.
(repeatx10000)

I love you.

Love, Me

Snow in April.

Sometimes you just hate school and homework so much that you need a pep talk from Abraham Lincoln. 

And sometimes you want everything to work out and have overnight success so badly that you just look at Pinterest all morning.  

And then it starts snowing so you just want summer. 

(Note to self: it's okay to cry.) 

But you have to move on and live in the present. And understand that things take time, but everything ends up happening and disappearing in a blink of an eye, so just love where you're at and breathe. 

i n n e r strength.

okay, so i think we all have short term and long term goals, right? as a woman, i think it's in our nature to make a goal out of everything. whether it's about school, religion, sports, fashion, etc., we always want to better ourselves (or be better than the person next to us--yikes). which can be beneficial or really bad. highly unrealistic goals are how depression, stress, and anxiety form--but when it's a realistic goal, great things can happen. but sometimes, it's nice to just--do things without any analysis.

today i accomplished a goal i didn't even know i had. and it was unexpected and great and made me feel super good about myself. which brings me to my point--i think we don't understand all of our strengths. i think we only see a very very very small percentage of our greatness. and maybe that's because of society, or personal reasons--but whatever it is, i think it's a great thing to get rid of all that we think we know about ourselves, and just embrace that we don't know everything and run into oblivion with open arms. i think when we do that, something really really great could happen--we could learn more of what god knows we are capable and less of what we think we are.

n o r t h b o u n d

So, something exciting: I'm selling candles. I know, I know. How is that exciting? Candles? How random! Well little kittens, let me tell you a story. Yes, I did just call you that.

Back in January, I made a very important promise to myself that I would be braver, that I would dive back into the arts, and that I would try my hardest to make my talents grow. 

Over the past few months, certain things have fallen apart to make way for certain things to blossom together. All of a sudden, I wasn't getting married in April, I had a small class load, and I wasn't working as much. So I stuck to my promises, and out of that came new hobbies...and brainstorming, and doodles, and....this was the result. 

So....that's something, right?

For now, I have opened an etsy shop. https://www.etsy.com/shop/NorthboundCandles

And soon my talented fiancé will have finished the website. 

Cheers to talents and candles and a whole lot of support!