I can't say what I might believe, but if God made you then he's in love with me

Sometimes I wonder if my mom ever looks down on me and shakes her head. Like I'm not her little girl anymore, or I'm not meeting the expectations she had for me. I've always been seen a certain way, and I never really minded that. Even though people have specific perceptions of me, and some of them aren't always good, I don't mind a lot of the things people assume about me. I've always been the tiny, innocent kid... and even though sometimes I feel like I'll never quite grasp the respect of those that matter to me, I like being the tiny, innocent, pure princess that people view me as. I love that person, I'm good at being that person.

Cute Is What We Aim For

Kay, so I know I'm a little bent on the past right now.. but I can't help it.
I'm looking back at old pictures from grade 11. I used to just think of that year as confusing and ridiculous and not knowing who I am or where I was going and being kinda crazy... but if I actually try to bring up bad memories, I only have, like, 3.
Instead I have great memories of picnics in May and skating with Camille and Carlye. I remember laughing in math with Karina and Dan, or whispering during terrible movies in English with Ben. I think I take some of those times for granted, because that year was actually pretty amazing. I loved pretty much every day during that year at school. Even the day my fish died and Rachel, Derek and I flushed it down the toilet in the girls bathroom, or the day of the diversity symposium when Ben made Rachel and I climb to the very highest point of Malaspina just to eat our lunch.
That summer was even incredible. It was hard at points without my dad really being an active part of my life, but hanging out with Camille all summer was definitely amazing, and I have a lot of percious memories from that time.
I guess the point of this entire post is just to say that even in the hard times, there's a lot of stuff to really cherish from every point in your life, and sometimes you just don't see it until after it passed.
I still have a lot of iffy feelings about grade 12, but I can think of a lot of great times then, too.
ie. Beating Ben at Tekken 2... 8 times.

Dance the magic dance

Have I ever told you you're amazing?
Well... yeah.

The only way to see again is let love in

Alrighty, so this morning I realized it's 2 days until XLR8 (dshnjfklsfjrj~!~~) and so I decided to check up on the facebook group. I was re-reading a lot of the older topics for about a month ago, and I read the post I wrote about being replaceable and empty and worthless. It was strange to remember how miserable I've been for so long. But what really got me, was re-reading Josh's response. I miss him so much. I just love him more than a lot of thins and I'm really excited to spend time with him again this weekend.

MOLLY-

Where to begin... Lord I love Molly so much and it breaks my heart to hear of the things shes been through, it breaks my heart to hear of the things she is still going through. Lord be the almighty comforter to Molly in these coming weeks. Surround her and fill her with true peace and comfort as it comes the anniversary of her mothers passing. let her know everyday that she walks with her mothers spirit and that her mother is with you. Comfort her dad as well because this is not easy for him either. Lord surround her in friends that will be vessels for you and show her complete and true love for her. Give her armor lord and bless her with faith and love. Lord i pray that she would know the respect she has in her friends and in her youth group and church and community. She is an amazingly smart girl who unfortunately over thinks sometimes lol but you have given her an amazing gift to write and so i ask that you would use your words through her to speak to others and to speak to herself. Let her know how much she is loved. The respect that she feels isn't coming from work is not true. That sense of unworthiness or the feeling of being replaceable are lies from satan and so i bind the tongues of the lies spoken into her life and cast them away in the name of Jesus. I bind and cast out the spirits of unworthiness out and silence them from Molly's ears forever. No words of your lies can be spoken to Molly in Jesus name Satan You have No Power, NO Right, You Have Nothing of Molly You have Nothing. Molly Is A Child Of God And You Cannot Touch Her in the name of Jesus. Lord I love Molly and so I ask that you take her safely in your arms and refresh her repair her and renew her spirit and her self worth. Blessings unlimited.
Amen.

Everything I think about makes me feel like a version of myself

Where do you draw the line between the past and the present. Where is that point that everything prior is the past and stays in the past? And is it really fair for us to assume we have the right to control that. I mean, for a very long time I had this clear defining line between my past and everything that came after. My past was physically in another town. I ran from my past as fast as I could. My mom was the past. But I mean, as much as I put the past far behind me and didn't really think back on it much (well, except the mom thing) it didn't stay in the past. I assume that I was trying very hard to shove it into a deep dark corner with the cobwebs and the anger and the fear and the uncertainty. Yet, slowly, various aspects of that "past" crept back in. I became friends with Veronica after not speaking for 3 years, I hung out with Shannon after trying fairly hard to forget our little "adventures" in high school. (late nights at Rodeo, later nights at the beach, boyfriends, break ups, and generally falling apart together) I got a new school, a new house, a new persona... a new life. The pint I'm trying to make is, as hard as I tried to make a big, thick, permanent line between my past and my present, they kind of meshed together, and I'm okay.
But what about those things we're not ready to put in the past? Those things we over analyze and think about day in and day out and wonder if they'll ever just get up and drag themselves into the box marked "past", and you can clse the box and wrap it with lots of heavy duty packing tape.

...and ship it off to Ethiopia.
Except maybe that'd be too far away.
Maybe just Halifax.
Or across town.
Or next door.
Or safely in my closet with clothes that don't fit and photos that never found their way into an album.

See what I mean?
I feel like I'll never be ready to put you in the past.