Testimony and Other Things

My whole life here in South Korea has been jacked up. To' up from the flo' up. Flipped and flopped. Whatever you want to call it, I am seriously a changed person. For real.

I didn't realize how changed until I was told that the people from my college ministry group wanted me to write my testimony for a end of the year banquet. Well, shoot, sign me up. God knows how much I love writing. So it was me and three other girls who were writing out our testimonies and one of us would be picked to read it aloud at the banquet. So I wrote it and I was really happy with how it turned out and just how amazing and quickly and wonderfully God had been working in my life up until that point (well, He's still working, but that's besides the point right now). And after I read it aloud in front of my small group here, and they were all really encouraging and proud of my vulnerability, I felt such a swell of love and hope that I thought that, even if I didn't get picked, it would be okay.

But I didn't get picked. And it wasn't completely okay. Sure, I know that my testimony isn't better than someone else's, and vice versa, but it still stung a little, especially since I really enjoyed writing it and was so happy with everything that had been happening.

But after thinking about it, I felt like my story wasn't good enough or dramatic enough to be read aloud and that God's work in my life wasn't really all that great anyway. So many doubts about the power of God in my life. So much distaste in my mouth because God knew that I wanted to share it and it was almost as if He wasn't letting me. It was not a good time.

But I'm getting so convicted this semester in terms of how impatient I am with God's promises and how quick I am to forget about the good things He has in store for me. Because at the banquet that night, my small group leader called me over and said that the people that read it and made the ultimate decision wanted me to share it at church on Sunday.

What. The. What.

Seriously? Church? Dang, I mean, I wanted to share it, but not that desperately! But I quickly shushed that thought because I just wanted to bless others. I wanted others to see that what I got this semester isn't just reserved for me. It's for everyone, for everybody. Even if I'm just a college student that doesn't mean that people don't struggle with what I struggle with. Daddy issues. Trust and relationships. Praying problems. And a host of other things that God has just taken from me, made right, and given back.

So, I went to church, did my spiel, and then sat back down. Whatever, no big deal, I guess. I like public speaking anyway, so any nerves I felt were mostly from excitement to get it all out. And afterwards, people told me that I had blessed them so much and that I didn't look nervous. Yes, I receive that. 

But now, I know that I'm being attacked in this way, being told lie after lie that I'm still not good enough. That my blessings will run out after this. That everything that's happened isn't actually all that great and that I'm still the same person. It hurt a lot and I was acting in a way that wasn't very indicative that my life had been wrecked by God, but it seemed as though I was still being threatened by evil things. Just seeing that I have power and anointing and favor from God was enough to scare Satan into attacking me harder and harder. And it was kind of working. But I'm cutting it off now and putting my testimony out in the super public (in a way...). Because it's actually not just my testimony; it's every single story of all Christians. That God loves and pursues His people, no matter what or who or where they are. I need to own it and share it because it's everyone's story.

So, basically, I wanted to bless this blog and post my testimony and make it a reminder to me that I am powerful because of Him and not of my own accord. I'm so incredibly happy with how it turned out, but I know that I wouldn't have been able to write it if God hadn't been working in my life. So here it is!
**Some names and stuff have been changed, just in case.**

Hi all, I’m Adrianna and I’m currently on a semester-long exchange program at ___ University and nearly an official member of NP church. Okay, here it goes.

I’m not going to lie: I came to Seoul with the idea that my life would become a Korean drama. It was my initial inspiration to come, after all. But I completely disregarded the fact that God had (and still has) bigger and greater plans for me simply because of who I was and where I was.

By name, I'd been a Christian for about 2 years, but I would really only consider the first 6 months of that time to be really dedicated to Jesus. I was in my spring semester of my sophomore year in college when I prayed that prayer, giving my life to the Lord, but by the time my junior year came around, I felt like God was testing me with new circumstances that I thought were too hard for me to handle, with or without Him, so I took steps back and away from God, beginning the darkest time in my life.

Growing up, I was always told I was the smart one, the one who got good grades, so being a math major seemed like a way to keep that up once I got into college. But when I failed one of my major requirement classes my junior year, I rapidly spiraled downward. I isolated myself out of shame and embarrassment, felt judged by my own family, and learned to hate myself. I often played it off, like it really didn’t affect me, but inside, I was dead. I felt alone and slipped into a depression that had me thinking that life was worthless and useless, just like me. If I wasn’t the smart one anymore, who was I? My depression got bad enough to go on medication and while it did help to numb the bad thoughts, I found myself numbed to the good things too. I now know I was just going through the motions of life and was just “surviving,” not living.

I remember right before I left for South Korea in February, my little brother, who was having a blast at his first year in college, told me wisely to reinvent myself in South Korea. When he said that, I thought it sounded good and maybe I would get into the party scene, just like many other exchange and Korean students do. I don’t know why I thought I would ever do that, since I never partied in America, but it was the only out that I thought I had to the dull life I was living. Clearly, God had a different plan.

I came to ECM through a fluke (though I realize now it was a divine appointment) and I have since discovered that my brother was right; my life here in Korea is being radically and wonderfully reinvented by the ultimate Inventor, Creator and Father.

I went through H&D completely out of faith after just three weeks of being here. My small group leader led me through it and I couldn’t believe that I was doing it. Me, thinking I was too far from God to be brought back and too far to be loved by anyone anymore, going through H&D. I didn’t know why I did it, but I knew deep down I had to, and I shared things with her I had never told anyone before. Strongholds of lust and pornography addiction were broken off instantly and I am now truly free from it. Issues with and hatred toward my dad were shattered as I placed Jesus in the middle of previously hurtful memories. Even an old recollection of 7-year-old me being sexually assaulted by a fellow student surfaced, right before coming to Korea, and now, I don’t feel pain and fear about it anymore. I was challenged to get off of my depression meds, and I am finding myself becoming more and more alive as I take less and less of the medication. I am filled with the joy of God rather than meds and I've never ever felt so free and full in my entire life!

But this new life that I had started living, out of faith, wasn’t even close to being out of God’s hands. I remember my first Joint Prayer Meeting in March as the first time that I went to anything “extra-church” related. A friend from school asked if anyone wanted to join her at JPM because she really wanted to go. I said I would, but only because I felt bad for making her go by herself, not because I was looking for God or feeling really excited to pray. I actually really hated all forms of prayer. I thought, “Why pray? God knows my thoughts, so what’s the point?” So when I got to JPM, and realized it was literally all prayer, you could say I was a little upset. And then we got into groups to pray for each other, and I know I completely shut down. I had a wall around my heart, fearing that these two people I didn’t even know would ridicule and judge me because I couldn’t pray perfectly. Plus, I was in a group with two NP leaders, and when asked to close the session in prayer, I said that I was uncomfortable and that I couldn’t. So not only did I say no to two leaders, I also said no to God, believing that He couldn’t speak through me and use me in any way. When I said no, I said that He wasn’t good enough. However, I have since discovered that I love praying and talking with God. I pray about everything now and am finding that the words flow much more freely since I gave it up and let God break down that wall. I see that my words are powerful and that I shouldn’t use them to speak the death I had become used to, but to speak life, because God has given that good life to me.

God kept taking me from glory to glory since then. I was amazingly blessed by the ECM retreat where God clearly and firmly reminded me through my small group leader, through fellow college students, and through other leaders praying over me, that I am so precious to Him, that I am such a treasure, and that He is incredibly proud of me, no matter what. At the retreat, Pastor M talked about how God’s people hadn’t heard from Him in 400 years, wondering where He was, until God chose Mary for His greatest pleasure. I felt like her. Numb to life, numb to seeing goodness, wondering where He was all along, and then, bam! Jesus shows up and uses His amazing grace to heal me and use me and just love me.

But strangely enough, I thought that God had brought me to my limit after that retreat, that I couldn’t handle anymore, and I would be in this “pretty good place” for the rest of my life. But, once again, God proved me wrong; the Churchwide Retreat was next and the Holy Spirit was coming for me. I was brought up in a conservative Catholic family, so I had never heard of or seen manifestations of the Spirit, so really seeing the power of the Holy Spirit at the retreat was just mind blowing. I wasn’t really scared, but intrigued and I was hungry for anything that God could give. I got the gift of tongues about a week beforehand, so I expected that the reatreat would be a good way to develop it more. What I didn’t expect was to be going up for an altar call and end up moving and shaking on the ground after the preacher said, “Fire!” over my head. I didn’t get taken away to Heaven or see any powerful images, but I felt peace. I felt at peace that my body wasn’t my own then. That my spouts of joyful laughter while I was down were directly from God’s mouth. That everything about my life and me belonged to God now and that He was doing great things with me, even if it may leave me a mess on the floor.

Now, I am no longer alone, being set in NP and in my small group, who I am so proud to call family. I am so filled with joy now, a deep well set firmly in my heart and continually being filled to the overflow. My identity isn’t based on anything earthly anymore and I know I’m already seated in heaven. My relationship with God isn’t based on my own earthly father anymore, but based in scripture and being made in Him who made me.

I love that God is proving me wrong and is showing me that my life isn’t mine anymore. I seriously believe that no matter how far gone I thought I was or how huge my sins are, He will still love me. That His love will cover all things and are greater than anything I could ever do. That my life is in the hands of the Most Trustworthy and that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m still in shock that all of this has happened in just three months. My small group leader keeps telling me I’m in a good place, and I think she’s actually kind of crazy because God keeps pulling me along, not letting me stay in one place long enough to hardly process. But I’m so hungry for more of God that it doesn’t matter how fast or slow He works in my life. I want to just latch onto His hand, with an unwavering grasp and just let Him lead me where He wants, and just trust and believe that my semester in ECM and NP has prepared me for everything good He wants to give me. I've come so far and I can say with confidence that a backslidden life is no longer mine!

My Life Now (In A Really Short Posting)

So, in case you didn't know, I am in Seoul, South Korea studying abroad! Sometimes, I feel like I've been here forever, and that everyone I know has been in my life for a long time, and that Seoul is my home. Other days, I still feel like a tourist and I am in disbelief that I'm in this city. I have quickly discovered that I'm definitely a city girl, and Seoul is seriously amazing.

Uh. Yeah. God is awesome, life is great, the weather is getting warmer, and I'm living like I never thought possible. I am so absolutely glad I'm here, period.

This might be the shortest blog entry I've ever made, but I don't know what else I can say that wasn't summed up in the sentence above. Awkward. I'm losing my touch for writing blog entries that are like a chapter book.

But probably not.

Writing

***This one has been sitting on my computer desktop for a week or two now, so I should probably just post it.***

I've read that writing is very easy; all you have to do is sit at the typewriter and bleed. I can't recall who said this at the moment, but I thought it was quite poignant and applicable to me. For a long time, I've wanted to be a writer, probably of fiction of the romantic variety (though I have no experience in such topics). Regardless of that, I think it’s going on ten years now that I've wanted to be a writer, which means I've been writing since I was 11 or 12. That’s quite some time, I believe, and I would like to believe that my craft has been developed quite significantly since then, though I know I have a long way to go before I’m even close to ready for publishing or even submitting any of my work. I have a few problems that I should probably consider solving before I can even begin to think about writing something book worthy.

1.                    Being able to tell people that I enjoy writing. For the time being, I've most likely only told a handful of people (read: less than 10) that I like writing. I don’t even know if my parents remember that I enjoy writing, as I think I've only brought it up in passing and it was years ago. It’s difficult to write when people around you don’t know that you enjoy writing.

2.                    Being able to share my writing with others. Other than my blog, which only a couple of people know I have anyway, I've only ever let one person read any of my fiction writings. One. That’s it. And it was eight or nine years ago when I shared it. I was writing a lot of fluffy sweet things too, so it wasn’t anything deep or inappropriate or what have you.

3.                    Telling people the types of things I like to write about. Most people know (or can guess) that I’m kind of a romantic and believe pretty fully in love. What people may not know (or guess) is that I like to write about these things. The situations and characters shall remain a mystery, for now, but I don’t want to lose friends because I like to write about love, especially since I've never had a love of my own.

4.                    Finishing something I've started. My computer is a veritable graveyard of unfinished stories. I had 110 on an old computer, nearly 70 on my current one, and none of them have even a sense of an ending. Oh sure, I've written a couple of things in the 100+ page range, which I know is a good start, but I never finish them. I get uninspired or come up with something else or think it’s quite cheesy and all kinds of nonsense. Excuses aside, I just stop writing. I've posted two chapters on a fiction website and didn’t get to anything else from that story. Sorry to those who are waiting on it; I’ll be finishing it never.

5.                    Being inspired to write. As I mentioned above, I pretty exclusively stay in the romance category (do what you will with that information) and I would like to branch out to write something with more substance. Other than my blog posts, which are just stream of consciousness anyway, I've never written anything solely dramatic or horrific (not that I would like to anyway… gross) or thrilling or science fiction-y. While I do enjoy the fluffy romantic bits I occasionally come up with, I wish it wasn’t my only way of writing.

I’m sure there’s more to add to the list, but I think, in general, this is pretty comprehensive right now, encompassing everything I need and want to change. And that quote I referenced at the beginning? I bleed a lot into these blog posts, but I wonder if bleeding is a transferrable skill. I would like to put my heart into my other writings as well.

Until then, I’ll just keep dreaming about happy endings.

Future Plans?

So often, I think I want to do something, but after researching it and looking into anything related to my want, I turn away and push it out of my mind.

I just don’t know what I want to do with my life.

Maybe, I think, I should be a counselor or someone who works in the mental health field. Yes, that would be nice. I think that mental health issues are severely neglected in this country and there is such a stigma that comes with it that I would like to help overcome. Oh, wait, I need to work with people who are unwilling to cooperate? And people who have a history with things I've only ever seen dramatized on television? Maybe I’ll look for something else.

Maybe I’ll be a teacher! Yes, I would love to help develop children’s minds and shape them for the future, considering they are the future, after all. Oh, some children like to act up in classes? And some of them have home lives where they can't even cope with something as trivial as math or reading? And not all are perfect students who want to try to do something with their lives. Moving on.

Oh, a doctor! I've always wanted to be a doctor! Helping people with their ear infections and stuffy noses! And everyone gets a lollipop! Hold on, did you say broken bones? And medical school? Never mind.

A dentist! USC has always been my dream school! I would love to impart my knowledge about dental hygiene onto others! I love flossing and brushing my teeth, it makes me feel healthy and clean. Wait, you said that people get cavities and have disgusting mouths and not everyone has had braces? Well, okay, maybe in another life.

Maybe I’ll be an executive administrative assistant. This has always sounded appealing to me for some reason and I would love to keep someone else’s life organized. I don’t want to have time to worry about my life; I can concentrate on someone else instead! You see the flaw inherent in this, I hope.

Oh bother, maybe I should go to graduate school, just to avoid the real world. What do you mean I have to “pick something I’m interested in” and “write a personal statement”? I think not.

Maybe I’ll resort to mathematics. Doing what, I don’t know (see teacher, above).

Or I’ll just get married and have a family. Maybe I should get a boyfriend first. That’s going to happen really soon, at least in the next 10-15 years. What’s another decade of waiting when I've already waited this long?

I’m not sure I’m capable of doing anything of worth. My mom keeps telling me that someone out there wants me and my skillset, whatever that may be. I, quite frankly, don’t believe it for a second. What have I ever done? I've lived a sheltered, privileged life. Sure, I've had my pitfalls and my moments of weakness, but who am I to think that I can do anything productive for society? People don’t want a white woman from an upper middle class family to tell them about their problems and how to live their lives and how to do things when I don’t even know what I’m doing.

Even when I ask my parents what they see me doing, they reference the mathematics degree I foolishly studied. I don’t want to do math at this point in my life! It’s selfish and silly for anything above differential equations. Maybe I’ll be eating my words later, and that’s fine. But as of right now, I just don’t see myself working with numbers (or Greek letters, for that matter) on a daily basis. They don’t know what I would be good at (or they do and they’re reluctant to tell me because they’re banking on math panning out). But what do they know; who really even knows me anyway? They’re not me, they don’t live in my head, and they’re not even a stalker. But I digress.

But the rub of it all is that I want someone to tell me what I should do with my life. So silly, right? Someone other than myself, someone who doesn’t know me, telling me what to do... Preposterous, I say! And yet so appealing!

All I want to know (ha!) is what my life’s purpose is. I know I want to help people, but how? In what context? For how long? What age group? What field? So many questions I don’t have the answer to.

Is this post-grad blues? I’m not even post-grad yet! My head hurts.

Current Events (in many, many words)

So a friend told me that I needed to update my blog. I suppose it was only fair because she updates hers fairly regularly and I read through it and learn all about her life, even though she's a bajillion miles away.
That's a lot of miles.
At any rate, she said I should write something personal or heartfelt or something, anything, with some insight into my life. I know I'll at least have part of it here, but as to the completeness of it, I can't make any promises.
I'm also a very spontaneous writer, so I don't know what's going to come out at the end of this, and it'll probably go off on some tangents, and everything will probably be a jumbled mess. I guess that's what happens during stream of consciousness writing.
Okay.
So.
Yeah.
Like basically every single person in the entire world, I have insecurities. If you're one of the lucky ones who do not suffer from this debilitating disease, I applaud you. I am probably jealous of you. But you are probably lying to me when you say you're completely happy with the way you are.
LIES AND SLANDER, I SAY.
Seriously. I don't care if you're basically perfect, you are struggling with something. Maybe not all the time, maybe just in little blips here and there, but you are almost guaranteed to be questioning something in your life at some point in time.
I just wanted to make sure you understood that before you get into my head.

Back to me.
I have a really crippling fear of being alone forever. It doesn't even matter if it's about friends or romantic relationships, I truly believe during the majority of the day that I'm going to have a cat, live alone, go to movies alone, eat alone, and pick up the rice in the church where a wedding has been, Eleanor Rigby style.
Again, I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, and that there are people who really are alone, but I can't get over the fact that I feel it so strongly.
Plus, I'm only 22.
According to most people, my life has only just begun and I've got all these great things ahead of me and that my future is full of possibility and everything else you could possibly put on a Hallmark card for people who are moving onto something new in their lives.
I don't care.
Tell me why I've never had a boyfriend? Or why I've never felt good enough for a friendship to last? Or why I'm so concerned about my friends when they don't show me they care. Tell me why I always feel like I'm somebody's last choice, no matter what. Tell me why I get jealous of people sharing text messages that I'm not a part of. Tell me why I get jealous, period.
I sound like I'm on my high horse, but seriously, when is it going to be my turn to be loved and appreciated the way that I love and appreciate the people around me? I am by no means perfect, and that's okay, but can't I be nearly perfect to and for someone? I'm nice enough, I'm not completely terrible looking (maybe more on that later), I'm caring, I can be hardworking, I'm funny, I'm slightly smarter than average (also, maybe, more on that later), and though I've got bad qualities, I know I'm not the worst choice in the world.
Maybe I'm just average. That might be okay, but it doesn't help that I've set my sights to someone above average.
I think I'm off the friend topic now, and really onto the boyfriend thing.
So, my mother told me a little while ago that maybe I should get a boyfriend (she was nice about it though, promise). I've told her that I have a hard time with friends and friendship in general, so I wasn't sure if the boyfriend thing would be good for me since romantic relationships are like regular relationships on crack. She just smiled wisely (and she would, since she dated my dad for 9 years [and started when she was 15, I might add] before they got engaged and have been married for 23) and said "No, it's very different." I believe her, but I've had no such luck so far.
Maybe it's because I want to be pursued.
In this technological day and age (I sound so well-informed when I say that, or I sound like a smarmy douchebag), it's difficult to know what anyone is thinking anymore. I talk to friends, impersonally, on Facebook and people are so attached to their phones that it's hard to have a normal conversation with some people without being interrupted by a cat video that they must immediately show me. Again, I'm not immune to this, but I feel like it's seriously affecting my life and that I find it hard to have a conversation with people, boy or girl.
Also, as much as I love women suffrage and rights and "yay feminism," I still have a lot of traditional values. Oh, like what you ask?
LIKE BEING PURSUED.
I will make you a sandwich, just the way you want it and give it to you while I'm cleaning house and coddling a baby and doing your laundry and all these other 1950's housewife things, AS LONG AS YOU TELL ME THAT IS WHAT YOU WANT.
You need to come up to me, tell me that you want to get to know me, tell me that I am pretty or that I'm funny or smart or whatever, and then I will consider you.
Because as much as I understand why people won't put themselves out there, I won't do it at all.
It's probably a fear of rejection. I've led a relatively sheltered life and I've pretty much always gotten what I wanted and needed, so failure was never in my vocabulary.
So, by not putting myself out there, I'm never going to fail.
My life will be quite boring, but I'll never fail.
And heaven knows I need to fail something else. Maybe I'll be put on a higher dosage of my current medication.
But anyway. I don't want to have to play a guessing game... as long as you tell me first. I'll be up front with my feelings and emotions (because, to be honest, I like most people), but if you're not feeling it, then I'll just make a fool out of you and me because I'm assuming things that shouldn't be assumed. Then it's awkward and I'll never want to try again and everything goes to hell and I end up with ten cats, living in a fusty basement somewhere on the outskirts of town where no one comes to visit.
Scary, I know.
These are the things that haunt me before I go to bed.

All I really want is someone who will kiss me goodnight. He must be attractive to me and smart and funny and wise and sweet and caring and loving and intensely passionate and everything that doesn't seem to exist in people, unless they're already taken.
Are my standards really high? Probably. But am I worth it? Yes.
If this is what will, most likely, make me happy, why wouldn't I hold out for it?
I've never been one to settle, but I know a good thing when I see it, so I don't want to settle for anything less than what I've mentioned above (and that list is non-exhaustive).
But what if it never happens?
What if I'm too ugly or too dumb or too heavy or too silly or too much to handle or too dramatic or too emotional or too terrible for anyone to love me? What if I'm not really great and what if I'm not really a catch and what if, when people look at me, they see someone who doesn't deserve love because of reasons x, y, and z? Am I not good enough to be loved? I, in general, take people as they are, so why can't someone do that for me? Am I just reaching for a ten when I'm only a four? Should I be lowering my standards because I'll never be with someone who's probably better than me? I'm really frustrated that I've never even experienced what I would even remotely be interested, either. This whole never been on a date thing is really terrible because I don't even know what I would want. Maybe everything above has just been implanted in my head by friends and society and I really want a bad boy or something.
I just want to know what it feels like to be important to someone.
I've always felt pushed to the wayside and that I'm not important enough to even consider. My friends take advantage of me because I'm caring and I get hurt and jealous really easily. I've had people ignore me and treat me like I'm nothing and make fun of me and gang up on me and just really make me feel like I'm a waste of space (thus another reason why I'm medicated). I feel so useless and worthless to people that I wonder why would any man in his right mind want to put up with me. I'm not good enough for friends, so why would anyone want anything of a romantic nature with me?
It kills me to say this because all I've ever wanted is a family. I've always wanted to be a mom and a wife and caretaker and lover and partner and companion and friend, so it hurts to see others getting engaged or having relationships when I would literally drop of out school if the right man wanted me to start a family with him.
Maybe I'm too willing to succumb to the whims of someone else.
Maybe my weaknesses shine through before any of my good qualities.
Maybe I'm not meant to be married and happily in love or what have you.
But why would I have something like that in my heart and mind?
If it's not meant to be, why not just banish it?

People, no matter what their beliefs, have some general idea of what they would like to do with their lives. Of course it changes yearly, weekly, monthly, whatever, but people mostly know where they would like to end up someday. So if I was meant to be alone forever, why would I be so concerned with falling in love? I like being alone, it's something I relish in every day, when I have time to unwind and think about the day, so it's not super terrible for me.
But then I start thinking about how much happier I could be with someone who really cares for me and my hopes and dreams, and I for his.
Maybe this is my way of fixating on something, instead of concentrating on myself.
OH BOTHER.
I don't get it.
Why has it not happened?
People tell me I'm pretty great, but why hasn't anything good happened?
They say I just need to wait for the right time and the right man and everything, but when?
I hate to say I'm getting impatient, but I really am.
When?
At least let me know what it's like so I don't have to wonder anymore if this is really what I want.
Maybe I'll have a change of heart if there was a male in the picture, but I won't know until it happens!
I just want to know this.
It's not to much to ask for, is it?
Nearly everyone can get a boyfriend, except me, it seems.
Pretty much everyone can at least get a date, except me.
And I don't want to be forward. I don't want to waste my time with someone who isn't interested.
Why does it hurt so much?


Okay, I don't really know what happened there at the end, but it is what it is. This is what goes through my head on a pretty regular basis. It's kind of awful and sad.

How to Be Average and Other Thoughts

Let go of high school, where it was easy to get more A's than anything else on your report cards and have friends and tangle with a job and maybe be on a team sport or two. You are not a teenager anymore and you are not living with your family. You are not allowed to look back on your days of so-called, blissful, unimportant glory and tell people you used to be a certain way, that you used to do it all and you're not sure what happened.

Don't complain about your mediocrity. If you're used to the good life, then it is going to hurt when you lose your chance at a promotion or that you don't understand the difference between grapes grown in Napa Valley or in Sonoma Valley. You can't be good at everything and if you hate it that much, your time spent fishing for compliments that you are a special little snowflake could probably be better spent doing something different to make sure that you can do some sort of preventative technique for next time. Unless you truly think that aliens abducted your brain, you should probably rethink your choices. Either work harder or figure out that, maybe, what you're doing isn't best and get out before it's too late.

Accept that, statistically, people will be better than you. It is impossible for everyone to be above average. Unless everyone in the world has the same level of achievement, or same level of perfection where we all get a Good Job sticker on our work no matter what, there is always going to be an average. And, for the most part and depending on the bell curve, there's usually going to be more than you will ever realize. For now, let go and let math tell the truth; that's one thing it's good at.

Stop comparing yourself to others. Stop going on Facebook and reading about people who "did so average it hurts" (completely true) and who go to California all the time and have a best friend and a boyfriend and go school in any other state but yours or have jobs with paid vacation time. Sometimes, mediocrity is okay and you have to accept that even if you don't have twenty-three friends, you do have one or two, and that you do have a job that pays for your life and you can afford things that you need. Because, even if there are people that are better than you, there are those who have less too.

Focus on what you can do. Don't think about all the times that you could have passed that test if you had just gotten one more question right. Stop thinking about the one time you did fail and the one time you did make a mistake. Think about all the other times that you've done something right. Think about that person you hugged or that ice cream sandwich you shared with a friend (but don't think about high school. That breaks the rules and, let's face it, high school doesn't count). No matter what you believe or what anyone else believes, you are here for a reason and can do something, no matter how average.

Don't let people drag you down even further than you already think you are. If someone is telling you that you are a failure, even in jest, don't let it slip by you. Don't let them continue to bring you down, saying that you're good for nothing, that you're dumb, that you're awful, that you suck, that you're not a good friend. After you don't invite your friend to something and they tell you that you're an awful person because of it, it allows them to slip into your heart and tear you apart from the inside out. While it's okay to be below average too, it's not okay to feel so low that you don't deserve to even be alive anymore. Even the lowest end of the bell curve goes on forever and doesn't hit zero: you shouldn't have to feel like one either.

On Coffee Cups and Growing Up

Through my brief, fleeting college years (which have yet to be completed), I have acquired two coffee cups. Officially, I have doubled my coffee cup count and am proud to say that this very minor accomplishment makes me smile. For anyone who has come into my life, one of the first things they probably find out is that I love cats (albeit somewhat irrelevant) and coffee. I make it every morning and, as many addictions go, I get headaches if I haven't had the black caffeine with half and half within an hour of waking. So to have more coffee cups is really something spectacular.

The first one I obtained toward the end of Fall semester my sophomore year. The Honors Program had a small get together with faculty and students and as a TA of these classes, I was invited. There were sandwiches and crackers and fruit spread across the table of a classroom and after we'd all had our fill, there were small gifts for everyone to choose from. Two different colors of coffee cups, stuffed with candies and tissue paper; I naturally chose the dark blue one over the other (it was so unappealing to me I can't even recall the color), ate the candy inside, washed the cup and set it on my shelf for future use. It's a lovely shade of navy blue, one of my school's colors, and it's the type of paint that, when wet, shines and dries in splotches, so slowly that you can see evaporation taking place beneath your nose. It's got a white inside and writing on the outside with my university name and an Honors program logo. It holds a decent amount of coffee, about 3 cups according to my carafe, and I admit I do feel quite sophisticated when drinking from it. I really was excited for this because it would mean I would be able to go an extra day without having to wash my coffee cups.

My second cup I got as a Christmas gift from two friends in my hall a few weeks before winter break in 2011. It also came with candy inside, hot chocolate mix, a homemade Christmas card sending their love from down the hall, and a small stuffed cat wearing a Santa hat. The cup itself has red, green, and yellow squares (with winter designs) in a patchwork style, alternating between red poinsettias, holly berries, and green winter leaves. It's porcelain and white with a yellow and green stamp on the bottom that says "Holiday Seasons" still partially obscured by a stubborn price sticker that won't come off. I remember getting it and feeling bad that I didn't have a gift for them in return, but they assured me that it was okay and that I hoped I liked the cat; I said I did and it is still displayed though Christmas is over. In retrospect, I believe it was the cup that I was most happy for. It's a smaller cup and I use it on days where I don't feel as though I'll be busy, that the extra jolt of caffeine that comes from my bigger cups isn't needed. I also enjoy making tea of the green variety in this cup when nightly homework is at a standstill and I need something to help me focus; after that and putting on some classical music, I am set to go for as long as necessary.

I like to think that I am growing up as I get more coffee cups. Not just because coffee is such an "adult drink" but because it means I'm getting things of my own. Things that I'll use everyday with significant meaning behind them. Not to say that clothes and school supplies are not important to me, especially when I buy them on my own. I didn't even buy the cups; they were gifted to me. But there's just something about these coffee cups that really signifies aging. All my other dishes are from my family, things that are mismatched and will be shown proper usage with me rather than at home. By getting these cups, I feel I'm just one step closer to my own job, my own place, my own family, my own things, becoming more and more separate from my current family. It's a scary thought though, that someday I will have to be taking care of myself, living a life further and further from what I used to know. But maybe my thoughts will shift, that I'll look on the things from my parents with greater appreciation and nostalgia. Plus, eating and drinking are important things in my life and I have mused that maybe this important life force is influencing my admiration of things as simple as kitchenware.

I would like to say that I will be this reflective when I get my own dishes and silverware, but my mother and I have bought and been prepared for that part for quite some time now. So, I will stick to coffee cups for now. I will continue to add to my collection as often as possible and remember fondly each situation in which I have felt a little older through these physical, fragile manifestations of my memory.

I will definitely drink to that.