Why we should love all body types--even the skinny girls

The most recent full-body shot taken of me--not even two weeks ago.

I'll warn you that this is quite possibly the longest blog post I've ever written.  But, I think it's important.  I’ve actually been noticing this for a long time, but I’ve always been afraid to say anything about it.  (I know, what a strange feeling for me.  I think I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been afraid to say something.)  But my sweet friend Sami posted a Tweet about it, and I was completely shocked that someone had the guts to do it, so I decided that it was okay for me to say something.  I responded to the Tweet, and then was inspired to write a Facebook status, but as usual when I’m ranting, Facebook decided it was too long for a status. This blog post turned out to be way longer than I originally planned, but oh well. Here goes.

I’m five foot one.  According to my doctor, I'm small-boned.  This is not due to osteoporosis or some other condition.  I’m just small.  My bones are small, my muscles are small, even my mouth is small.  (Figuratively, it’s huge, but that’s another subject.)  My father is only five foot eleven, and my mother is five foot three.  I will never be a tall or muscular person.  My genetics just say, “I know you wish you didn’t have to wear heels everywhere, but you’re tiny.  Deal with it.”

Up until I started college, I heard statements like this constantly:

“Ugh, you’re so small.  Eat a sandwich.”

“Real women have curves, Sarah.”

“No wonder you get cold so easily.”

“You need some meat on those bones!”

Despite being a size 0 to 3 for most of my high school career, I always felt fat.  I realize now I was actually underweight during times.  In high school, the most I ever weighed was 108 pounds, and the least I ever weighed was 93 pounds.  Still, I managed to convince myself that I was obese. I always said, “The scales must be wrong.  Yes, every single scale in the world is wrong.  I must weigh much more than that.”  I found myself lying about my weight in my head, actually believing that I weighed much more.  While people were telling me to eat a sandwich (which isn’t even the optimal weight-gain food, by the way, so I don’t understand that at all), I felt guilty every time I thought about eating.  Perhaps the most puzzling part of my thought process is that I always viewed my sweet older sister as having the perfect body—yet we were usually about the same weight.  We even shared clothes (and still do, when we visit each other).  How does that make sense?

But when I went to college, I actually started to really gain weight.  I guess it was the cafeteria food, plus the fact that college students are broke but still insist on eating all the time, resulting in a diet of Ramen noodles, Dunkin Donuts coffee, any fast food chain’s dollar menu, and vending machine candy.  I gained the freshman fifteen in my first semester.  I still wasn’t the size of an elephant, but my jeans no longer fit.

And then I met a whole new different type of criticism.

“Damn, Sarah, are you really going to eat all of that?”

“Look at that ass jiggle!”

“Are those love handles I see?”

Granted, a lot of these comments came from my own mouth, but they also came from friends and even family.  Fifteen pounds may not sound like a lot of weight, but when you stand at five foot one, even one pound shows on your midsection quickly.  And I started to hate myself.  Yes, I hated my body for not looking like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, but I really started to hate the girl who lives inside this body.  I constantly punished myself for my love of food.  I’m thoroughly a Southern girl who loves her fried food and syrupy-sweet tea, but I didn’t feel like this was okay.  My sense of self-worth became tied to my body image.

This isn’t a post to make you feel sorry for me.  I’m not a victim of bullying.  I can handle criticism.  In fact, I’m here to tell you that I did handle the criticism.  I decided that I was sick of hating my body, so I started dieting.  And exercising.  I like everything to be fried, and I love carbs more than I love most people, but I avoided all of that.  I started eating certain healthy foods I absolutely hate.  I started jogging and doing various exercise routines I found on Pinterest.  I even started doing jumping jacks when I was in public and was forced to wait in a line or something.  Yes, it earned me some funny looks, but it burned calories.

And I lost ten pounds.

So what is the point of this post?

Well, now that I’m ten pounds lighter, I’m actually starting to feel better about myself.  Yes, I still dislike my body.  I’m thinner, but I’m still soft, without any real muscle tone.  Some call it feminine, I call it doughy.  But I don’t cringe every time I look in the mirror.  However, even though I just wore a bathing suit yesterday and barely thought about my body…people are being rude once again.  But am I still being called fat?

No.

I’m being told to eat a freaking sandwich.

I’m being told that I’m not a real woman.

Even Pinterest, as the beautiful and thin Sami pointed out, is degrading me because I don’t shop in the plus-size section.  Pinners are pinning pictures of perfectly healthy girls and labelling them "unnatural."  And let's not forget all the pins with plus-size models that say "Real women have curves."

Never mind the fact that I’m five foot one.  Never mind my undersized bones.  I’m a small human being, so I’m “unnatural.”  I’m not a “real woman.”

Women with “more meat on their bones” (what a ridiculous statement) have long said that they’re persecuted.  Movies like Real Women Have Curves and Hairspray have championed overweight women, telling them that they’re beautiful and they shouldn’t conform to society’s pressures to be a size zero.  And that’s all true.  Some of my most beautiful friends shop in the plus-size section.  Adele, Tyra Banks, and Jessica Simpson have all been persecuted for their weights, but generally people agree that they are absolutely beautiful and talented.  There is nothing wrong with having “more to love.”  (I’m so sorry about these ridiculous sayings.  These weight clichés have got to go.)

But in the process of making bigger women feel comfortable in their bodies, people are belittling the skinny people.

Let me just say that I understand the frustration with Hollywood’s definition of the “perfect body.”  Women like Angelina Jolie, Rachel Zoe, and pre-baby Nicole Richie make me want to vomit—not because they’re disgusting women!  They’re far from disgusting.  But they make me want to vomit because I vomit when I haven’t eaten all day, and these women look like they haven’t eaten all month, and my stomach feels so sorry for their poor stomachs.  I don’t think any woman should ever attempt to look like that, because it’s not healthy when your bones protrude from your body.

But what is wrong with being slim?  Not eating disorder skinny, not chubby, but just slim.

I hate to remind you, but slim is healthy.  Slim means your arteries aren’t clogged up.  Slim means you are at a smaller risk for heart disease and diabetes.  On the other hand, slim means there is food in your belly.  Slim means your muscles, bones, and organs are being nourished.  Slim means that you have more energy.

Slim is…great.

So why is being slim/slender/skinny/small/petite/WHATEVER such a bad thing?

I realize that most people would love to be small.  I realize that movies, magazines, and TV are advocates of “Thin is in.”  I realize that overweight people—or even “thick” people, whatever that means—have to deal with a lot of jackasses who make fun of them.  I realize that “bigger” people are beautiful.  They really are.  But in our efforts to make the bigger people feel better about themselves, we’re chiding the smaller people.  We’re making the small people feel persecuted.

This needs to stop.

Probably my biggest pet peeve out of all of this is that line I keep using—“Real women have curves.”  Lane Bryant, a plus-size store, is always using the words “real women” in their ad campaigns.  In the movie Dreamgirls, Jennifer Hudson (who has lost a lot of weight since the filming of this movie) says to Jamie Foxx that he needs a “real woman” instead of “birds” like Beyonce.  There is even a movie called Real Women Have Curves.

I will repeat my stats to you: I am five foot one.  I weigh 110 lbs.
And I have curves.

Yes, ma’am, I do.

My friends (and sister and mother) have nicknames for my boobs and my hips, because those parts of me are just so…out there.  I’ve been told on multiple occasions I have an hourglass figure.  It’s taken me a while to get to this state of mind, but I absolutely love my boobs and hips.  I like the fact that I don’t have to buy push-up bras.  I like the fact that these trendy high-waisted skirts look amazing flaring out from my hips.

But, despite all of the teasing I get for my boobs and hips, people still insist I don’t have curves, because I’m a size six.

Girl, look at that body--these are curves!

Oh, and since I don’t have curves, I’m not a real woman.

So, what am I?  A girl?  A fake woman?  A fictional woman?  If I’m not real, do I even exist?
Exactly.  You see the ridiculousness of this thinking.  A real woman is someone who was born with a vagina.  It has nothing to do with weight, body type, or sizes.

I have curves, anyway.  But even if I didn’t, I would still be a real woman.

So, I guess this entire rant is just to say to the persecutors: stop using skinny people as a way to make yourself feel better.  Skinny people have feelings, too.  I’ve been in your shoes before.  I know how it feels to hate skinny people because they call you fat.  I was never more than a few pounds over my body’s ideal weight, but people were still cruel.  I used to feel nothing but resentment toward people with amazing bodies.  But now I’m realizing that I am skinny—I am just curvy, in my own way.

And for God’s sake, don’t call skinny people “unhealthy,” “sick,” “anorexic,” or even insinuate that we’re not “real.”  There are people with eating disorders, of course, but the majority of thin people have perfectly healthy relationships with food.  We’re very healthy.  We’re not sick.  We love to eat.  I once had an extremely unhealthy relationship with food—I either used it as a crutch or completely ignored it when times got hard.  Now, not so much.  I love to eat--healthily.  And I think I look decent in a bikini.

Finally, my last point: as I said, I do realize that there are many celebrities who are too skinny. I can even think of personal friends who I just want to take to an all-you-can-eat buffet and force-feed them so they'll digest some calories this month. But what good does it do to pin pictures of these women with the words "unnatural," "sick," "disgusting," and "ohmygod look at those ribs she looks like an alien and she needs to eat a sandwich and gross"?  IT DOES NO GOOD. You do realize that the reason these girls are starving themselves is because they are disgusted by themselves, right? So why the hell are we exploiting them and egging on their beliefs that they are "disgusting"?

I just don’t like to be mocked for my weight any more than you do.  And other skinny people don’t like it, either.

Don't make fun of someone for their weight. Don't give them suggestions on how to eat or exercise. And don't use adjectives to describe them, unless they're positive adjectives like "beautiful." It doesn't matter if they're too skinny, healthily slim, slightly pudgy, overweight, or obese.

As Dr. Seuss said, "A person is a person, no matter how small!"

Sarah's Guide to Fabulous Modesty

I wasn't planning for my first real blog post after 13 months to be on fashion. I was actually planning to explore my defense mechanism of apathy and find the correlation/lack of correlation between that and my goals. But, alas, that requires a lot more thought than this. And, while walking across my campus, I was suddenly really disgusted.

I realize that if you are on a college campus, you are probably an adult. I realize that it's a lot of fun to leave your parents' house and be who you want to be. I've indulged in "the real me" quite a few times. I, however, do not understand why you would want to wear an outfit worthy of a hip-hop music video to class.
Let me get this straight: I am not a prude. I adore fashion. Lately, I have spent way too much money in Express, which is not exactly a prudish store. But I do respect myself, and I fully believe that "modest is hottest." I think that I am living proof that you can be modest and stylish all at once. Not tooting my own horn, just stating a fact.

So, I decided to comprise a list of basic fashion rules, organized by category:

Dresses:
When buying a dress, you should know about a few tricks to try in the dressing room.
1.) While wearing the dress, touch your toes. Do you have to hold your dress up to keep your boobs from falling out? Can you touch your toes without showing your butt to the world? Dresses should never show your most feminine body parts.
2.) As you pull the dress over your head, keep your eyes open. Can you see through the fabric? If yes, consider a slip, a tank top, or just put the dress back on the rack.
3.) Look for an air conditioning vent in the dressing room. Yes, seriously. Stand in front of it. Would a gust of wind blow your dress up and show your panties to the world? If you can't find an air conditioning vent, then twirl around. If you're still keeping Victoria's Secret a secret, then you probably should buy the dress!

Shirts:
Many of the same rules apply to shirts.
1.) Touch your toes. Do you have to hold the shirt up to keep your boobs from falling out?
2.) As you pull the shirt over your head, keep your eyes open. Can you see through the fabric?
3.) Raise your arms as high as you can. How high does your shirt ride up? Can you see your belly button? Even worse, can you see your muffin top? If so, that is probably not a classy shirt.
4.) When your arms are resting at your side, can you still see your midriff? Yes? Put it back on the rack, Britney.
5.) Graphic tees: If your father was going to buy you a shirt with a saying on the front, would he pick this one? If not, then don't buy it. No daddy wants to see his little girl in a shirt that says "I recycle boys" or "Bootylicious." (Seriously, who even says Bootylicious anymore? Alas, I saw that t-shirt today.)
Wearing the shirt...
6.) Can you see your bra through your shirt? If yes, find a tank top.
7.) Are you wearing a brightly-colored bra underneath a light-colored shirt that would otherwise be okay? If yes, find another bra.
8.) Are your bra straps showing? (I'm conflicted on this one. Sometimes, with off-the-shoulder shirts, bra straps look like tank top straps. But if you are very obviously showing your bra, you should consider a strapless bra. Don't get the bras with clear straps--everyone notices them.)

Jeans/Slacks:
1.) My number one rule: don't wear skinny jeans if you don't have skinny genes. Skinny jeans on women who have a little extra curve in their hips, thighs, and calves only reveal what you don't want to be revealed, and that is the opposite of modesty. Skin-tight jeans show every dimple in your skin. And those colored skinnies that are so inexplicably popular? They only make you look like a giant dumpling that was dipped in food coloring. I'm not trying to be rude. This is the talk I give myself every time I go shopping. Learn your body. Learn what kinds of jeans fit you and make you look/feel great. I loved skinny jeans all throughout high school, but after gaining nearly ten pounds my first semester of college, I learned to embrace straight-leg jeans and boot-cut jeans (but only with boots and heels). I'm starting to love my booty again. This isn't just about being stylish and aware of how to dress for your body type. This is also about modesty. Some girls can look modest in tight jeans, but some (myself included) just can't.
2.) Can you see your buttcrack when you stand up straight? Remember that crack kills.
3.) Can you see your buttcrack when you bend over? Crack kills!
4.) Are there holes in your pants that show your underwear or your pockets? Please understand that I love ripped/distressed jeans...but if you can see your pockets, you're probably showing too much thigh. And Victoria's Secret should be secretive!
5.) Does your thong/panties show over your waistband? Do I even have to explain why this is trashy?

Skirts/Shorts
1.) Touch your toes. You should understand why by now. If you're wearing shorts, can you see the bottoms of your butt cheeks? Yeah? Trust me when I say that no respectable boy wants to see their lady wear that out in the streets.
2.) Are they so short that you can see your pockets? Yeah? Put them back.
3.) For skirts, use the air conditioning trick again.

Miscellaneous
1.) Leggings are not pants. The '80s called; they want their fashion disaster back.
2.) If your tights/leggings/panty hose have rips, runs, and shreds...don't wear them. Basically, if one of Ke$ha's most popular hits sings about something you're wearing, you should probably just rethink your entire wardrobe.
3.) A short skirt and thigh-high boots are for bad pornos, not for you.
4.) Do your fishnets say "Elle Woods", or "Vivian the Pretty Woman Prostitute"? You'll know the difference.
5.) An inch-thick layer of foundation and a pound of eye makeup may not be "immodest," but it is still "trashy." If your face is a different color than your neck or shoulders, you're wearing way too much!
6.) Corset tops? No. Just no.
7.) Bras--listen, girls, I hate bras more than anyone. As soon as I enter my dorm, the bra comes off and is flung across the room. But in public, they should be required. If you're wearing a sweatshirt over a t-shirt and don't plan on taking the sweatshirt off, okay, go for comfort. But if you're wearing a dress, cute top, sweater, or t-shirt, you need something to reign the girls in. Girls who are smaller on top might can wear a tank top. But if you wear a tank top and you're still jiggling while you walk, just wear the bra. If bras did not serve an honorable purpose, they would not have been invented.

Honestly, though, my biggest fashion tip can't exactly be given to everyone. But if you know a guy who respects you, he will always be honest with you. My dad and my little brother both tell me when they think an outfit isn't working. Dad just tells me "Go put on a sweater" and Sam just tells me "Wow, you look like a whore." Harsh, but effective.

If you're not convinced, here are some lovely pictures of modern style icons whose featured outfits are following my rules:

Emma Watson
(by the way, I've never met a straight male who didn't adore her)

Awesome street wear for chillier weather. And an awesome quote. It's okay to let guys wonder what's underneath. Just don't show them right off the bat.

Such a cute and fun dress that shows some leg but hides your goodies. And another awesome quote.

Sexy cleavage, but a modest dress. Yes, ladies, it's possible.

Taylor Swift

(hate her music, love her style)

A lady in the streets...

...and at the best parties in the country.

Jennifer Hudson
(for those of us with boobs and hips)

 Here's a woman who knows how to show off her boobs and her hips without actually showing her boobs and her hips.

Hello, cutie pie! It's nice to see (some of) you!

But, of course, modesty is not only about clothes and makeup. It's about how you carry yourself and how you behave.  If you're a lady (and you probably are, if you've made it this far into this post), you'll probably understand these immortal words. Take them to heart.

Carrie in the closet...

Charlotte in the streets...

Miranda in the classroom...

And Samantha in the sheets.

Style like Carrie. Have Charlotte's class. Use your brain like Miranda. And be sexy like Samantha...behind closed doors.

Thanks for reading, sweetie pies! Keep it classy!

Resurgam

Whoa, am I back? Whoa, do I still have readers? After thirteen long months of simply being too busy to blog, I finally wrote something that I felt couldn't be posted anywhere but here. I don't know if anyone will read this, or if anyone will even find this relevant, but I may just start posting here again. We'll see.

Here's what you need to know since I last posted:
I'm now in college, majoring in English, with a minor in Creative Writing.

I'm 550 pages deep into writing my first novel.

I literally don't have time to sleep anymore, but I still want to write on this thing.

So...who's with me?

(New post to follow shortly.)

My Art, My Future

Put pen to paper

And then decide—

Loopy, pretty, bold—

But always legible—

But legible for whom?

Ideas flow through veins

From heart to wrist

To fingertips—

And then,

With a bang,

Comes a baby crying—

A sign of new life

And new health.

Fold it, package it, send it,

Kiss and caress it as you wait.

And then,

With a bang,

Comes a sign of a newer life.

A book

Bound with a spine

That only rivals the brave author’s.

Truth, Love, Peace, and...Targets?

Amidst the tragedy of the Tucson, Arizona shooting, of course someone has to leak out controversy about some ultra-famous politician.  And unsurprisingly, this perfect example of gun violence seems to have splashed blood on the hands of gun-enthusiast Sarah Palin.

I'm keeping this short, because I'm pretty miffed about the whole thing, and I just don't need to start pounding on my keyboard. But basically, in case you haven't heard, last year, Governor Palin's political action committee (SarahPAC) released a propaganda-style graphic outlining the twenty House Democrats who voted for the "ObamaCare" bill.  It, as shown below, placed gun targets over the states and included the names of the representatives.

 

And yes...that is Gabrielle Giffords' name on the left column.

The idea was that we need to "target" these representatives and try to remove them from the House.  I'm crediting this whole thing to an eerie coincidence...especially when you see this below:

Let's take a step back and look at this. The theme of the graphic was "targeting" liberal representatives and apparently, the 6/12/10 event advertised above was a gun-promoting fundraiser for a conservative cause.

I'm going to take a wild guess (read: common sense) and say that Sarah Palin did not have Giffords shot. That's ridiculous; we all know that the Palins are not like the Kennedys. I don't believe she has enough power to get away with that, plus she really does not seem like the kind of person to just pay to pick people off.  It's a ridiculous concept to say that this is more than a coincidence.

However, is Governor Palin a totally innocent party in this?

My answer is: no. The map graphic was totally offending and promotes anything but the "peace and justice" that Palin advertised on her Facebook statement about the shooting of Representative Giffords.  It is never okay to make a statement by putting a target (even figuratively, as SarahPAC did) on someone's name or on a map of America.  This is as much a slap in the face of liberals as her TLC show "Sarah Palin's Alaska" was.  Now, there is nothing wrong at taking a jab at the opposite party, but to promote violence in such a way as this is unacceptable.

I really hate playing the "If _____ did this" game, but here I go...

If President Obama released a graphic with targets on the map of the United States of America, he would have been immediately called a terrorist and a "radical Muslim."  Fox News wouldn't rest until they had statements from Megyn Kelly, Bret Baier, Glenn Beck, Shepard Smith, Bill O'Reilly, Sean Hannity, Juan Williams, Geraldo Rivera, Rush Limbaugh, and Palin herself that all called Obama a radical.  Governor Palin should not be able to put targets anywhere on America or on people's names because it is, in my opinion, quite radical.

I'm not the most conservative thinker, and I'm not the most liberal thinker, but it is pretty obvious to me that Palin's graphics are not helping the Republican party.  Insensitive propaganda like this paired with the Tea Party's ignorant signs (see below) only further the Republicans' flawed reputation as war-mongers.

Of course, as soon as this controversy was whispered toward Fox News, Glenn Beck had to tackle it.  Governor Palin sent him a rather timely email (proving she can do it, ha) that read:


"I hate violence. I hate war. Our children will not have peace if politicos just capitalize on this to succeed in portraying anyone as inciting terror and violence. Thanks for all you do to send the message of truth and love. And God has the answer."

Governor Palin, with all due respect, maybe you could take time off from chopping down trees and hunting moose (we all know you do it because we all saw the "Sarah Palin's Alaska" commercials) to actually promote peace. You can make your PAC cut out the violent propaganda. You can start sending your own messages of peace, truth, love, and God.  You don't have to change your stance on the War on Terror or guns.  Just change your maps, graphics, and advertising of your name and opinions.  Oh, and while you're working on this, maybe you could talk to your buddy Glenn, who you claim "sends the message of truth and love."  May I remind you of the time he said he took his WWJD bracelet off because he thought of killing Michael Moore?

And while we're talking, can you send me a letter?  Glenn Beck gets an email, and I don't? I see how it is...

Only kidding, of course.  But I'm still waiting.  Maybe you can make it up to me by sending me a letter and telling your good buddy Glenn to send me one as well.  Now that would make for an interesting blog.

Finally...

Luckily, we still have some peace-minded people in America, as shown below.  Even if Giffords is an "ObamaCare Democrat", she should be admired for her dedication to national security and border security.  She is a true patriot and my prayers are with her as she recovers from this tragedy.  No matter how we feel about Palin, Beck, or the Tea Party, we should all remember the six deaths in Tucson, the other victims still recovering, and the representative who was unfairly targeted--both literally and figuratively.

How Southerners Play in the Snow

Not only was today my mother's birthday, but it was the second time of my life where I've been let out of school because of snow! So I went with my best buddy/little brother Sam to enjoy the magical fluffy whiteness that got me out of a Chemistry exam.

However, we were a little confused. We live in a place where there are a few good hills and slopes, but how were we supposed to sled? Growing up in Mississippi and South Carolina, we've never owned a sled because we've never had a reason to own a sled.  So we had to get creative...

I woke up and my sweet cat (read: terrorist) alerted me to this amazing view.

My mom (who turned 39 today, don't ya know) made us warm ham and biscuits (a classic Southern breakfast, in case you're not from around these parts) before we all went outside. Yes, even the tiny Chihuahua (read: vacuum cleaner).

 Due to the absence of a good and proper sled, we had to think of a replacement. Cardboard boxes would get wet and fall apart, we didn't have an available garbage can, and why ruin a $30 sleeping bag?  So we went to the kitchen and found a pizza pan.  Here, my partner in crime models the new sled.

I let him test-drive the pizza pan, just in case it turned out to be a disaster...

  And it was. In fact, Sam admitted that he will be lucky if he has children. You see his rather manly scowl and the buried pizza pan.

 But a good Southern boy never gives up. He just improvises...and uses his own back as a sled. It worked great for Sam, but not so much for me. His success could be blamed on the fact that he weighs at least thirty pounds more than me.

 No real use for the pizza pan any more, so he tried to crack the ice on the streets. And pretty much failed.

 We ended up finding a hill that I enjoyed greatly, which is why there are no pictures of it. We took turns rolling and sliding down the hill, and then used our boots to ice-skate in the street. Yeah, we've never owned ice skates, either. However, after burning all of those delicious ham-and-biscuit calories, we had to find a more relaxing way to enjoy the snow. This is Sam's "light bulb just went off above his head" face.

And this is the great idea.

 However, it did not stick, no matter how hard he tried. We were quite disappointed and my boots were thoroughly soaked through, so we decided to go inside, don our fuzzy pajamas, and drink hot chocolate while watching "Ghosts of Mississippi" on HBO. Entirely coincidental movie, but it was good enough that my next post should be my lamentations on the "ghosts."


I think you can tell by my face that it was a wonderful day! Cold, but very serendipitous.

And in case you haven't met her...this is my baby, Prudence. She enjoyed the snow just as much as we did, and Sam even made a snow fort by hiding in the snow-covered Prudence. Hey, cut us some slack: we Southerners don't know anything about making snow forts!

 And the day was made even better by this happy little email...

 So yes, in case you were wondering, this Southern belle LOVES snow days! The only thing that could make today better would be if I received a letter from Sarah Palin!

2010--What I've Learned

I know it has been a month since I last posted, and I'm sorry. My only excuses are: winter break from school, a trip to Mississippi, some sort of virus that kept me in bed for a few days, and the return to school and midterms. Not a good enough explanation, I know--I kept receiving text messages, phone calls, and Facebook posts asking why I haven't updated! So I'm sorry.

I honestly don't know what to post, though. I had some cute humor pieces planned out about kayaking across the Pacific Ocean, teenage Facebook romances, what NOT to do on Facebook, and why I love the state of Mississippi so much. However, those don't seem to be good meaningful starts to 2011, which is so far the biggest year of my life (graduation, anyone?).  So forgive me if you get lost in this stream of consciousness. I don't know what this post will end up saying.

2010 was hard for me. I've been struggling with a lot things for a while now, but it's like this year has been the breaking point for so many things in my life. Until 2009, I was actively involved in a church and Christianity. I actively sought out a relationship with Christ and I dreamed of going on the mission field in Cambodia, Uganda, or Thailand. I have two international mission trips (Peru and Romania) and I've worked in a special needs camp, a mission camp, various soup kitchens, etc. I used to live to serve, all in the name of Christ. But now I'm having doubts, and I don't know what to do with these doubts. It's hard for me to believe everything that is written in the Bible. I hate the general hypocrisy of any religious person--not just Christians, even Jews, Muslims, and Buddhists are extremely hypocritical. And I just don't agree with everything in the religion I've been brought up with. I've tried praying about it, but it feels like my prayers are just hitting the ceiling. I haven't felt the presence of God in over a year. It makes me feel hopelessly lost because I have relied on God and the church all my life.

And I've learned about other relationships, too. I've known for a long time that family will let you down, but the past year just kept shouting that at me. Friends come and go like the wind. I got over the typical high school drama by the time I was fifteen, so it's not like I'm having fights and rumors or anything. People are just like the leaves in a tree. They're beautiful and provide a cool, comforting place for a while, but eventually they wither and just fall away from you.  I'm not jaded; I'm not unwilling to ever love again. In fact, I'm dying to weed out the people in my life and see who will be my friends for the rest of my life. I want to meet new people to love. But in this crazy world where everyone moves around and everyone comes and goes, relationships break. There is nothing that can be done about it. It's human nature.

And success. How do you measure success? I made a 5 on my AP English exam. I made perfect scores on my state tests. I have a pretty good GPA. Overall, it has been a fairly good year for academics, but why do I feel like my plans for the future are so empty?  I can't decide where I really want to go to college. Either way, I lose someone. If I go to my number one college (out-of-state, what I consider to be my home), I'm far away from my little brother and big sister, who honestly keep me alive. If I go to one of my other choices (in-state), I'm far away from the place I call home.  And what in the world am I going to do with my life?  But back to success.  Sometimes it's really hard for me to study because I want to work on my novel, blog, or paint a picture. Is success about what you need to do, or what you need to love? It's true that I need to love academics, but they do not keep me alive. Writing and art keep me alive. I need to love them so I can survive. So am I successful for chasing those dreams or for putting the laptop away to study? And will writing or school make me successful? I know that if I study and work hard and try my best then I will manage to get a job in a few years. But what if it's a job I hate? What if I don't find time to write this novel? Then I'm not successful, in my eyes.  So to sum all of that up: What is success?

On the more positive side of things...

I've learned about the world. In the past year, my political views have definitely broadened--I'm no longer tied down to one side of the spectrum. I have made it a point to observe the social circles and cultures around me. I'm trying to love every person I know, but of course that is so hard.  I've considered stereotypes and gender roles and how they affect my country. I'm constantly trying to enlighten myself.

And I do actually know what I'm going to do with my life.  I just don't know how I'm going to get there. No matter what college, major, degree, job I choose, I know I'll be married and I'll have children. The ideas of marriage and pregnancy used to make me break out into hives--especially the word housewife! But now, at seventeen years old, I'm already yearning to have that job in my life.  I'm not saying I'm going to skip college and just start having kids. That is not a Sarah plan at all. I want a degree, I want a successful career, I want to be a power woman. But I also want the power in a household that I can keep in order. I'm already dreaming of four kids. For those of you who actually know me, you can see what a turn-around this is in my life.  This year, I've decided that I think there is something beautiful about a woman who takes care of her husband and her children. But don't get your hopes up--I'm not going to be this. That still makes me break out into hives. So I guess I'm not going to be June Cleaver, but I'm not going to be Edna Pontellier, either.

But after all of that complaining and random musing, I must confess to the most important lesson I've learned this year: I've learned to let go. I no longer take responsibility for familial problems, disappointments, and things that are out of my control. I've been told I've grown apathetic to a fault, but it has been the best thing for me. Yes, I just blah blah blah'ed all about that, and all of that is pressing on my heart, but it's not sucking the life out of me. My family no longer drains me. The stress of school does not conquer me. I've even let go of the biggest tragedy of my life--the loss of my older brother. I have a million things bouncing in my mind, but finally at last, I'm free. I control my life. I control my emotions. I rely on no one but myself.

Well, I rely on myself...and this...and this...and this. As they say in that horrible Beatles musical Across the Universe, "Music is the only thing that makes sense anymore, man."

Am I finished rambling yet? I think so. I have no idea what I just typed, to be honest, but I think I'll post any way. I'm trying to tone down my spontaneity this year, so maybe I should just delete it, but I'm also trying to go down a dress size. Both resolutions will probably be ignored.

Oh, and to receive a reply from Sarah Palin. So far she's been mute.