Baggage

       The things we carry are significant to us. We each carry different things for different reasons. I didn’t realize how much people carry until this week. Whether it’s physical, mental, or emotional. Whether tangible or intangible, it all weighs down on us. Some stuff is worth carrying, some isn’t.

       A physical item that I always have to have on my person is a ponytail holder. It can be in my hair, on my wrist, or in my pocket, but I have to have it. Sometimes I love my hair, sometimes I hate it. But as long as I have a ponytail holder, I can handle it, no matter how I’m feeling about it in that moment. Also, there are so many things I can’t do with my hair down. I can’t eat with it down. Can’t read with it down. Can’t play volleyball or basketball with it down. Can’t write an essay with it down. Can’t photograph anything with it down. Whenever I leave the house, I make sure I have a ponytail holder with me. On the rare occasion that I forget it, I automatically know I’ll need and will feel uncomfortable without it. When the time comes that I need it, I frantically ask around for one. Sometimes I’m rescued, moretimes not. And during those moretimes, I suffer deeply. Then and there I vow to never leave the without a ponytail holder ever again. I won’t even go into the betrayal I feel when my ponytail holder breaks as I’m putting my hair up. I need to have a ponytail holder at all times.

       A goal I’ve set for my life is to be better off than my parents. I don’t want my kids to worry about finances the way I do. I love my parents and I know they’re doing all they can. But I also know we’re not doing so great and it sucks. I want to become a famous photographer. I want to be world renowned, but I’m worried that’s not going to happen. And if it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do. I want to go to an art school for college and get a bachelor’s in photography. But my parents don’t want me to go to an art school because they want me to learn more than just photography, in case that doesn’t work out. But maybe going to an art school will be the difference between becoming successful and not. I don’t know. My future is really unclear to me at this point in my life. That scares me.

      My Martha. My confidant, my inspiration, my “person” is God. I know that sounds funny in this day and age and mean it, but it’s true. I’ve had a really close relationship with Him for awhile now. I can tell God anything and everything. Ask Him for anything. I know I have Someone who loves me, protects me, will always take care of me. I know whatever I do, God will forgive me. Recently I’ve kind of been distancing myself from Him. Lately I’ve been doing some things that I don’t know how He would feel about them. Sometimes I feel like maybe do, but then I’ll talk to someone about it, and then I’m back to not knowing. The thing about always being forgiven, is you can take advantage of that. So I’ll reason: well, He’ll forgive me, so it’s okay to do. You’d think He’d be all, “Oh she’s gunna take advantage of me like that, I’m not going to forgive her.” So I shouldn’t take advantage of him just because I know He’ll forgive me. But we’re taught in the church that He forgives EVERYTHING. So then why not.  Because I shouldn’t want to, that’s why not. But sometimes I want to. I’m confusing and confused. But even though I’m going through all this inner struggling, I still tell Him everything and try to do what He would want, as much as I can. I like to think I’m still close to Him. But it’s gotten harder to tell recently.

       Three adjectives that I would use to describe me are kind, fun(ny), and trustworthy. Kind- if someone needs help, I do what I can for them. Fun(ny)-  I think I’m funny. I think a lot of my friends would say otherwise, because haters gone hate. Obviously. I’m more silly/goofy funny than actual funny. It’s cause my dad is so corny that if you covered him in butter and stuck him in a microwave for about 1:30 you’d be all set for a movie. Trustworthy- you ask me not to tell anyone, my lips are sealed. Even if I’m not asked to not tell, I know what’s appropriate to share and what’s not. A lot of other people recognize it as well, but don’t respect it. I’m not someone who can talk about others, just to talk about them, make them look bad. I’m also trustworthy because I follow through on my word. I think others perceive me as optimistic. A lot of people tell me they don’t see me without a smile and that I always look happy. Which I wouldn’t say I’m always happy, but it’s nice that others do. I want to have the kind of personality that brightens someone’s day.

      One memory that shapes who I am would be my Confirmation. Confirmation is a Sacrament in the Catholic Church that basically means I accept Jesus as my Christ and Savior because I truly believe it, not because my parents are forcing me to. Then there are all the memories I have of when my nieces lived here. I have three nieces that are around me and my sister’s age. We were best friends, us five. We made so many crazy, fun, awesome memories together that we’ll never forget. They keep us close to this day. I also remember the day my best friend came out to me.  I remember feeling so happy that she felt comfortable enough, with herself and with me, that she could finally share that. And knowing that her being gay didn’t change how I felt about her in the least. I have the memories of my sister. Her bad decisions and how they affected my family. Those memories have definitely played a part in knowing who I don’t want to be, as harsh as that is. But I have some good memories with Zoe, too. I know she’s not all bad. I remember times she’s been sweet and nicer to me than I would have been to her. I could go on and on about all the memories I have. I’m sure anyone could. But those are some of the memories closet to my heart,

      So those are a few of the things I carry. It’s a heavy weight, but it makes me stronger. So no complaints here.