***I started this blog post on July 31st right after I had returned from Fiji but could not find the right words to finish and publish. Those words were coming to me this morning and I want to finish this section on this chapter of my life book.
One of the most unexpected and funniest parts of my Fiji trip was EVERYONE'S comments about my weight. I will preface by saying that the village we lived in is on the water, the children and adults work very hard fishing and farming. There is no electricity so although they sit around and talk story some of the time they are very active and when they weren't working they were playing volleyball or doing something. They also eat fish for breakfast (although you also get babakau- a sort of fried bread delight for breakfast a lot of mornings), lunch, dinner, and a snack. Fish and a starchy vegetable at every.single.meal. Combine these 2 things and you get very healthy people. Tutu, our grandpa who is in his early 50's, still had a 12 pack. Even the little boys are ripped. There are very few people in the village carrying any extra weight.
I will also say I have been overweight much of my life. I have struggled with this part of myself and have went through many years of not liking me to a place where I had really come to love me, irregardless of the imperfections that I still am working on. I was truly good with who I was and where I was headed in my personal health before I left.
Then, I got to Fiji. And someone told me I was fat at least once a day. And they don't sugarcoat it like we do here in the states. There are no words like overweight, chubby, thick, big, etc. They would simply state "Madame, you fat". At first I was shocked, embarrassed, hurt. How dare they say that to me. That's so rude. But I was too shocked to respond so I would just laugh and look away. Not only would they tell me I was fat regularly but anytime I would put on my shorts for sports or expose my calves they would---- massage them? Meaning grab! pinch! squeeze! rub! They were amazed at their size. Most days I would laugh, some days I would threaten them to stop. touching. me.
Luckily, I was very comfortable with the other two interns and we were able to laugh and talk about it. The intern who is 25 in response to being told she was fat said, "And you're black, but what are we going to do about it?". I really liked this approach so when they would tell me I was fat I would respond "You have big eyes. Your hair is a fro. etc. Are we just making observations about each other?" It was also funny because men were consistently flirting with me, date invitations were common, and proposals were not uncommon. In my mind these two thing did not seem equal- being told I was fat all the time and a lot of men wanting to be with me but that's a post for another day.
I had days of dealing with it very well and days of tears and hurt feelings. My high self-esteem and self-confidence slipped. It was painful to feel myself losing something so precious that I had earned and fought for.
Then, return to the states and everyone is telling me "wow, you look skinny. woah, you look so good.". Say what? I just spent 5 weeks hearing I was fat and now I'm being bombarded with compliments on my shrinking figure (fish and taro for days + sweating always + lots of walking = skinnier me). I was dumbfounded and grateful for their comments but "Madame, you fat" was still the melody in the back of my mind.
*** This is where I had stopped writing and am picking back up***
I am still having hard time forming words because I don't want to be too vague that it loses meaning but too specific that the moral I learned is lost in the details.
Those words, "Madame, you fat", continued to haunt me. So much so, I began thinking about very unhealthy ways to not be fat. I had thought of these ways before but had never really gone through with them. However, at this point in my journey I was at the point where I was ready to act and I did. And it scared me. I could see a very dark road before me and I had decided to step onto it. I wanted back off immediately. So I talked to my sister, Relief Society President who also does the local LDS addiction classes, and my Bishop.
In the beginning of October, my sister sent me the Latter-day Saint Addiction recovery book and I began reading and studying it from the view point of an addiction to food. I realized that this is a true addiction for me and to try and overcome an addiction without God is futile. So I took this trial I have struggled with for so long to Him and asked for help. Why I had thought for so long that I must overcome this one by myself I don't know. So I looked for help in the recovery book, Book of Mormon, and through daily pray and pondering with God. I also made a realistic plan for healthy eating and exercising.
Fast-forward 2 months to today and I was just thinking this morning- I love me! Really, I do. I'm not perfect but I love who I have/am becoming. I have found such a healthy balance for me. Balance between eating healthy and indulging, exercising and letting my body rest, eating for fuel and eating for feelings. Does this mean I will never have days again of over eating my feelings and regret? No, but I am so much more emotionally, mentally, and physically equipped to handle it.
I love that I can see the changes in my body. And although I enjoy when the number on the scale drops the real rewards are in the feeling post-workout when I feel strong and accomplished, the decreasing ideas to feed my feelings, the new muscles, the confidence in taking pictures or getting ready. Because I can see where I've been, where I am, and where I am headed and
I LOVE ME!
Can you tell my confidence is coming back? :)
sweet or tart-
round like a peach and I'm ok with that
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Life lessons at the haircut store.
Oh yesterday.
I went to get a hair trim. I walked in and there was a college girl doing three women's hair at the same time, 2 people waiting, and one almost bald man looking bored. He immediately asked if I'd like a cut. Still trying to process the scene- why is she doing all those ladies hair at the same time? I've never seen this man before and this is a small town, who is he? Why are those women waiting and not getting their hair done?- I hesitantly agreed. He reminded me of Robert Duvall..... Yeah, that means he was balding on the top with a little hair around the edges and he had curls in the back. And I was going to let him cut my hair.
I sat down. Told him all I wanted was a trim, taking off as little length as possible and he began. And while he cut he talked and talked. Oh what a life this man has had. Wives- many of them. Years in Mexico. Children who won't be in contact with him. Crass jokes that I wished Gran-Gran was still around to call up and tell them to. And then he said something that I keep thinking about-
"Life is like a door- You put hinges on it and anybody can walk through."
Deep right? But really, my mind keeps coming back to it. What does that mean? Life is a door with hinges so anybody gets to try it or when you put 'hinges' on your own life you'll get all sorts of people in it?
I might have to go back and ask him what he meant by it.
What I learned? Take a chance on the bald barber- he did a great job, taught me a new style for my hair, gave me a discount, taught me a few new jokes, and gave me something to ponder.
Sweet or tart-
His mulletish curls were pretty sweeeeeeeet.
I went to get a hair trim. I walked in and there was a college girl doing three women's hair at the same time, 2 people waiting, and one almost bald man looking bored. He immediately asked if I'd like a cut. Still trying to process the scene- why is she doing all those ladies hair at the same time? I've never seen this man before and this is a small town, who is he? Why are those women waiting and not getting their hair done?- I hesitantly agreed. He reminded me of Robert Duvall..... Yeah, that means he was balding on the top with a little hair around the edges and he had curls in the back. And I was going to let him cut my hair.
I sat down. Told him all I wanted was a trim, taking off as little length as possible and he began. And while he cut he talked and talked. Oh what a life this man has had. Wives- many of them. Years in Mexico. Children who won't be in contact with him. Crass jokes that I wished Gran-Gran was still around to call up and tell them to. And then he said something that I keep thinking about-
"Life is like a door- You put hinges on it and anybody can walk through."
Deep right? But really, my mind keeps coming back to it. What does that mean? Life is a door with hinges so anybody gets to try it or when you put 'hinges' on your own life you'll get all sorts of people in it?
I might have to go back and ask him what he meant by it.
What I learned? Take a chance on the bald barber- he did a great job, taught me a new style for my hair, gave me a discount, taught me a few new jokes, and gave me something to ponder.
Sweet or tart-
His mulletish curls were pretty sweeeeeeeet.
Thursday, November 21, 2013
No cute title cuz I wrote about death
I couldn't think of a cute title for this post because really how do you talk about death in a cute way?
But today I read a quote from another blog (aninchofgray.blogspot.com- A mother who lost her son at a young age) and I really wanted to share it.
Death really is such a big part of my life and something I think of everyday. Not in a morbid way, but just because oh how much it has shaped my life and who I am.
"To love is to lose. It's just that simple. Maybe not today but someday. It is the inevitable condition of humanity. Some sadness has no remedy. Some sadness you can't make better."
"But then why isn't everyone walking around miserable all the time?"
"Because ice cream still tastes good. And sunny and seventy-five is still a lovely day. And funny movies make you laugh, and work is sometimes fulfilling, and a beer with a friend is nice. And other people love you, too. [Death] has been around since time immemorial. You've run up against it. And there's no getting around or over it. You stop and build your life right there at the base of that wall. But it's okay. That's where everyone else is too. Everyone else is either there or on their way. There is no other side, but there's plenty of space there to build a life and plenty of company. Welcome to the wall."
"But then why isn't everyone walking around miserable all the time?"
"Because ice cream still tastes good. And sunny and seventy-five is still a lovely day. And funny movies make you laugh, and work is sometimes fulfilling, and a beer with a friend is nice. And other people love you, too. [Death] has been around since time immemorial. You've run up against it. And there's no getting around or over it. You stop and build your life right there at the base of that wall. But it's okay. That's where everyone else is too. Everyone else is either there or on their way. There is no other side, but there's plenty of space there to build a life and plenty of company. Welcome to the wall."
-Goodbye for Now by Laurie Frankel
I like the imagery that an intimate death builds a wall on your "old" life and you are faced with building a new one.
When my mama passed away I would often tell people it wasn't just her that died. It was our family unit as it stood then. It was that world that we had lived in with her around. It was "that" life, with her around. I learned you not only grieve the loss of someone you love so much but also the loss of the way things were with them, because things will never be the same again. Yet, somehow you figure out how to be happy again and it seems strange and even wrong sometimes but you build a new life.
Well, we do have eternity but that's a topic for another day. (click for a great talk about my beliefs, and Latter-day Saint belief, of eternal families! http://www.lds.org/ensign/1996/11/the-eternal-family)
sweet or tart?
How is it that death can be sweet? Because it's so damn tart sometimes.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Happiness vs. Anger
Funny story: Today I did an object lesson with a stick, discussed below. While the kids were thinking, I was holding the stick and hitting my hand. I then thought about hitting them with the stick. A scary evil laughter erupted from my gut that startled even me. Then I started laughing at myself for scaring myself and for finding so much joy in thinking of giving some of those kids a little wack. I totally told the kids what I was laughing at and they definitely gave a sympathy-I'm kinda scared of you cus your nuts- but I'm laughing so you won't hit me laugh.
In the seventh grade class I am teaching right now we are reading a great book called "Touching Spirit Bear". It's about a boy, Cole, who has extreme anger issues, has been abused his whole life, beats up another kid, and instead of getting sent to jail is banished to an island to heal. On his first chance he burns down his shelter, tries to escape, and attacks a "Spirit Bear"- which obviously rips him apart. Spirit Bears are completely white black bears, 1 in every 10 is born this way. The Tlinget (pronounced Klinket) Indians have spiritual stories on why they are white, they are also the ones who have the idea of sending him to banishment to heal instead of jail to fester. Anyways, in the end he has a change in heart and gets to go back to the island to try again. While there a Tlinget elder teaches him a great life lesson with a stick.
He labels the left side as anger and the right as happiness. He asks Cole to break the stick to get rid of the anger but keep happiness. As Cole tries, he realizes with each break there is always a left end of the stick. At first he is mad and then he realizes there will always be anger and happiness and each are necessary but we have to choose which side of the stick we focus on. He also realizes he can keep "breaking his own sticks" in anger but he'll just keep being angry.
Before we had read the whole scenario in the book, I had the students try to break some sticks from outside to get rid of the anger. They quickly realized they couldn't. But some of the options they came up with were so profound for 12-yr-olds. One said to mold it into a circle so it's a continual progression of good and bad as life happens. Another suggested we break the stick into tiny pieces so we could each help each other carry the good and the bad. I was pretty impressed.
We then discussed the idea of both being in out lives forever but having to learn how to honor the bad that happens to us with maybe moments of anger or sadness but focus on happiness. I then told them for the next 24 hours they had to try to focus on the good and we would discuss how it changed their days the next class. As we discussed those 24 hours today, I had one of those moments where teaching fills you head to foot.
They got it. They were all able to tell me how focusing on happiness had made their day better. They all wanted to do it for another 24 hours.
Success.
My two favorite quotes about anger from the book:
"Anger is a memory never forgotten."
“He turned to Edwin. "You know, the stuff you just told me makes more sense than all the weird things the counselors and psychologist have told me in school and at the detention center."
Edwin tapped Cole's shoulder with the broken stick. "That's because those people still think you can get rid of the left end of the stick.”
(Edwin is the Tlinget elder)
sweet or tart-
When I reread this post I could tell by my overally academic writing I had just finished my last 15 page research paper!!!! Sweet!
In the seventh grade class I am teaching right now we are reading a great book called "Touching Spirit Bear". It's about a boy, Cole, who has extreme anger issues, has been abused his whole life, beats up another kid, and instead of getting sent to jail is banished to an island to heal. On his first chance he burns down his shelter, tries to escape, and attacks a "Spirit Bear"- which obviously rips him apart. Spirit Bears are completely white black bears, 1 in every 10 is born this way. The Tlinget (pronounced Klinket) Indians have spiritual stories on why they are white, they are also the ones who have the idea of sending him to banishment to heal instead of jail to fester. Anyways, in the end he has a change in heart and gets to go back to the island to try again. While there a Tlinget elder teaches him a great life lesson with a stick.
He labels the left side as anger and the right as happiness. He asks Cole to break the stick to get rid of the anger but keep happiness. As Cole tries, he realizes with each break there is always a left end of the stick. At first he is mad and then he realizes there will always be anger and happiness and each are necessary but we have to choose which side of the stick we focus on. He also realizes he can keep "breaking his own sticks" in anger but he'll just keep being angry.
Before we had read the whole scenario in the book, I had the students try to break some sticks from outside to get rid of the anger. They quickly realized they couldn't. But some of the options they came up with were so profound for 12-yr-olds. One said to mold it into a circle so it's a continual progression of good and bad as life happens. Another suggested we break the stick into tiny pieces so we could each help each other carry the good and the bad. I was pretty impressed.
We then discussed the idea of both being in out lives forever but having to learn how to honor the bad that happens to us with maybe moments of anger or sadness but focus on happiness. I then told them for the next 24 hours they had to try to focus on the good and we would discuss how it changed their days the next class. As we discussed those 24 hours today, I had one of those moments where teaching fills you head to foot.
They got it. They were all able to tell me how focusing on happiness had made their day better. They all wanted to do it for another 24 hours.
Success.
My two favorite quotes about anger from the book:
"Anger is a memory never forgotten."
“He turned to Edwin. "You know, the stuff you just told me makes more sense than all the weird things the counselors and psychologist have told me in school and at the detention center."
Edwin tapped Cole's shoulder with the broken stick. "That's because those people still think you can get rid of the left end of the stick.”
(Edwin is the Tlinget elder)
sweet or tart-
When I reread this post I could tell by my overally academic writing I had just finished my last 15 page research paper!!!! Sweet!
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Bula Vinaka- How it all began
Yesterday I was talking to a friend in the School of Education building on campus about something that happened in Fiji and she said "I remember the day you walked into this classroom and said 'Guys, I think I'm going to Fiji in a month?'". Then I started reminiscing on that day and the ones that followed and I wanted to write about them.
It was a warm day in April... Just kidding I don't really remember what the weather was but I do remember I was having a funky day. I was tired and and in a weird mood and decided to leave work early so I could get to my next class early, so I could just sit in a dark classroom and be alone for a few minutes. When I got there, I sat for about 2 minutes and then felt like I couldn't sit any longer. Now this in and of itself is odd because I'm not one of those people that can't sit still. I can. But on this day I couldn't sit. So I got up to walk around the School of Ed and walked into the hallway where I saw a sign- one I had seen on the wall for the past couple of weeks, but had never really stopped to look at. It was about an internship opportunity in Fiji for the 5-week summer break. At the bottom it said to email Brother Bailey, one of the professors who I had never worked with or had a class from before, for more information.
I have always dreamed of living in another country but it hadn't happened for me. So of course, I thought about how amazing it would be to live in Fiji. And then I immediately began to think about how they probably only wanted Fijian students or it was too late to apply or how much money I could make if I stayed and worked during those 5 weeks but something in me pulled me over to one of the computers in the lobby to send an email to Brother Bailey.
This part still gives me chicken-skin --- Just as I opened a blank email and began... Brother Bailey walked out of his office and asked if anyone in the lobby was looking for him. I turned around to see that I was the only one in there. Uhhhh.... well... I told him I was actually just putting together an email for him about Fiji. We chatted, he asked a couple questions, showed me on a map where the internship was, and within about 5 minutes told me I could go. Whaaaaat? I was so confused and told him I wasn't even really sure and I needed to check my budget and pray about it and I would let him know on Monday if I wanted to.
I went home. Freaked out. Prayed. Budgeted. And emailed him on Saturday I wanted to go.
And then began the craziest adventure of my life. (Which I will write more about later)
When I think about everything that has and is happening in my life as a result of this trip I can't help but see the tender mercies of my Heavenly Father and his guiding hand in leading me to this internship.
Sweet or tart?
Missing Fijian sweet/tart lemon-leaf tea for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack. Even when you're sweating and hot.
It was a warm day in April... Just kidding I don't really remember what the weather was but I do remember I was having a funky day. I was tired and and in a weird mood and decided to leave work early so I could get to my next class early, so I could just sit in a dark classroom and be alone for a few minutes. When I got there, I sat for about 2 minutes and then felt like I couldn't sit any longer. Now this in and of itself is odd because I'm not one of those people that can't sit still. I can. But on this day I couldn't sit. So I got up to walk around the School of Ed and walked into the hallway where I saw a sign- one I had seen on the wall for the past couple of weeks, but had never really stopped to look at. It was about an internship opportunity in Fiji for the 5-week summer break. At the bottom it said to email Brother Bailey, one of the professors who I had never worked with or had a class from before, for more information.
I have always dreamed of living in another country but it hadn't happened for me. So of course, I thought about how amazing it would be to live in Fiji. And then I immediately began to think about how they probably only wanted Fijian students or it was too late to apply or how much money I could make if I stayed and worked during those 5 weeks but something in me pulled me over to one of the computers in the lobby to send an email to Brother Bailey.
This part still gives me chicken-skin --- Just as I opened a blank email and began... Brother Bailey walked out of his office and asked if anyone in the lobby was looking for him. I turned around to see that I was the only one in there. Uhhhh.... well... I told him I was actually just putting together an email for him about Fiji. We chatted, he asked a couple questions, showed me on a map where the internship was, and within about 5 minutes told me I could go. Whaaaaat? I was so confused and told him I wasn't even really sure and I needed to check my budget and pray about it and I would let him know on Monday if I wanted to.
I went home. Freaked out. Prayed. Budgeted. And emailed him on Saturday I wanted to go.
And then began the craziest adventure of my life. (Which I will write more about later)
When I think about everything that has and is happening in my life as a result of this trip I can't help but see the tender mercies of my Heavenly Father and his guiding hand in leading me to this internship.
Sweet or tart?
Missing Fijian sweet/tart lemon-leaf tea for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack. Even when you're sweating and hot.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Trick or Treat... Smell my feet...
I thought yesterday day and today would be WILD with my students because of Halloween. They have actually been great. Instead of cracked out on candy as I assumed they are barely awake from being out all night.
My favorite moment though-
Student- Miss Peach, trick or treat.
Me- Smell my feet.
Student- Give me something good to eat. If you don't, I don't care I'll pull d o w n (students speech is slowing) y o u r ..... uhhhhh.
The student then realized they were about to tell me they were going to pull down my underwear. ha
Me- Just go sit down and forget this awkward moment.
We are the only classroom on the whole campus that decorated. Does that show my naivety to teaching? No, I agree. It shows I'm not burnt out yet. The kids have really enjoyed hanging things in the spider webs.
But now they're already asking me what I'm going to do for Thanksgiving. Uh??? Guess we're making turkeys!
sweet or tart?
underwear is awkward...
My favorite moment though-
Student- Miss Peach, trick or treat.
Me- Smell my feet.
Student- Give me something good to eat. If you don't, I don't care I'll pull d o w n (students speech is slowing) y o u r ..... uhhhhh.
The student then realized they were about to tell me they were going to pull down my underwear. ha
Me- Just go sit down and forget this awkward moment.
We are the only classroom on the whole campus that decorated. Does that show my naivety to teaching? No, I agree. It shows I'm not burnt out yet. The kids have really enjoyed hanging things in the spider webs.
But now they're already asking me what I'm going to do for Thanksgiving. Uh??? Guess we're making turkeys!
sweet or tart?
underwear is awkward...
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Identity
I keep wanting to post some short fun posts about things going on in my life but there's not much of that going on right now. My daily routine is pretty much the same everyday and I'm in "fight senioritis / get this ish all done" mode right now. I will post about my roommates beautiful wedding last week as soon as I can get a hold of some pictures. It was so perfect for her and I'm so glad I get to love her.
Anyways, I do want to write about a discussion I had with my other roommate last night so this might be another wordy thoughtful piece. Maybe that's just what I am- wordy and thoughtful. :)
She and I were talking about the many different cultures you experience if you live in Laie and attend BYUH. It is one of the biggest blessings and most life-changing events to date for me. We were also talking about how our identities are in many ways so similar to our parents and siblings and yet different.
She is Samoan, both parents from Samoa, was born and raised in Utah, and is LDS. She was telling me about the three identities she feels she has. Her Samoan identity is so giving- so so giving as they are. You give even if you go without knowing that it will come back to you from someone else giving. It is beautiful and flawed. Then, her American identity that has taught her to fend for herself and those very close to her first. To be independent and somewhat untrusting, but you always know you and yours are taken care of. It is beautiful and flawed. Lastly, her LDS identity where she is more equal in giving to others and taking care of herself. Where there is a good balance that can be hard to obtain. It is beautiful.
I was telling her how growing up I was always more of a compassionate giver. Someone needs a ride- I'll give it to them. They can't afford some food- I'll buy it for them or invite them over to eat with us. Someone needs a desk- we have an extra they can have. Although I know it was appreciated there are members of my family, a parent in particular, who is just as giving but not as trusting. They didn't like me inviting maybe "rougher" friends over to partake in what we had at our home. Don't get me wrong they would do anything they could to help someone out but they have a greater sense of _______. I can't think of the word. Not paranoia or distrust- safety maybe? I don't know for sure. They would always just air on the side of "You can never be too safe" and I would air on the side of "I'm sure they're a good person and just need some help".
At time it left me feeling a little bit out of place. Was this side of me that is different wrong? Or even dangerous and silly?
Recently a previous Young Womens President, who I think knows me well, was on the island and I got to meet up with her. She told me in the few days she had spent in Hawaii, she just kept thinking how at home I must feel here. Not only because I have always loved tan and brown skin which is everywhere here! but also because a lot of the locals and other Polynesians that live here are "like me". That side of me that gives even if I have to go without or maybe even gives too freely that didn't always fit with a lot of the cultural identities around me in the mainland- they are here and that part of me fits so well.
This was such a sweet small revelation to me last night to put this all together. As I am making some big decisions in my life that some people don't understand or agree with it reminded me how aware I am of who I am. And parts of that might be different than the "norm" that people know and understand for themselves. But I know me. And I know that my Heavenly Father knows me even better and is guiding me according to who I am and what I can do.
I love me. Beautiful and flawed.
*** Disclaimer- I know the identities I put related to certain cultures do not represent everyone in that culture. I know we are all unique and stuff :) That was just a very blanket minimal description.
Sweet or tart?
I'm a sweet Peach :)
Anyways, I do want to write about a discussion I had with my other roommate last night so this might be another wordy thoughtful piece. Maybe that's just what I am- wordy and thoughtful. :)
She and I were talking about the many different cultures you experience if you live in Laie and attend BYUH. It is one of the biggest blessings and most life-changing events to date for me. We were also talking about how our identities are in many ways so similar to our parents and siblings and yet different.
She is Samoan, both parents from Samoa, was born and raised in Utah, and is LDS. She was telling me about the three identities she feels she has. Her Samoan identity is so giving- so so giving as they are. You give even if you go without knowing that it will come back to you from someone else giving. It is beautiful and flawed. Then, her American identity that has taught her to fend for herself and those very close to her first. To be independent and somewhat untrusting, but you always know you and yours are taken care of. It is beautiful and flawed. Lastly, her LDS identity where she is more equal in giving to others and taking care of herself. Where there is a good balance that can be hard to obtain. It is beautiful.
I was telling her how growing up I was always more of a compassionate giver. Someone needs a ride- I'll give it to them. They can't afford some food- I'll buy it for them or invite them over to eat with us. Someone needs a desk- we have an extra they can have. Although I know it was appreciated there are members of my family, a parent in particular, who is just as giving but not as trusting. They didn't like me inviting maybe "rougher" friends over to partake in what we had at our home. Don't get me wrong they would do anything they could to help someone out but they have a greater sense of _______. I can't think of the word. Not paranoia or distrust- safety maybe? I don't know for sure. They would always just air on the side of "You can never be too safe" and I would air on the side of "I'm sure they're a good person and just need some help".
At time it left me feeling a little bit out of place. Was this side of me that is different wrong? Or even dangerous and silly?
Recently a previous Young Womens President, who I think knows me well, was on the island and I got to meet up with her. She told me in the few days she had spent in Hawaii, she just kept thinking how at home I must feel here. Not only because I have always loved tan and brown skin which is everywhere here! but also because a lot of the locals and other Polynesians that live here are "like me". That side of me that gives even if I have to go without or maybe even gives too freely that didn't always fit with a lot of the cultural identities around me in the mainland- they are here and that part of me fits so well.
This was such a sweet small revelation to me last night to put this all together. As I am making some big decisions in my life that some people don't understand or agree with it reminded me how aware I am of who I am. And parts of that might be different than the "norm" that people know and understand for themselves. But I know me. And I know that my Heavenly Father knows me even better and is guiding me according to who I am and what I can do.
I love me. Beautiful and flawed.
*** Disclaimer- I know the identities I put related to certain cultures do not represent everyone in that culture. I know we are all unique and stuff :) That was just a very blanket minimal description.
Sweet or tart?
I'm a sweet Peach :)
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