What If There’s No Such Thing As A ‘Wrong Person’?

Romantic movies promise one grand love that will make you realize what went wrong all the other times. In that moment of bliss there will be laughter and ease, happily-ever-afters—even horse-drawn carriages for goodness sake! These images and story lines lead us to believe that there is one person out there searching for us, and that he or she is our Mr./Mrs. Right, making all the others who came before ‘wrong.’

But what if there is no wrong person?

What if every love is real, and valid, and not something you should apologize for? What if every heartbreak is, in fact, a beautiful lesson you had to learn in order to prepare you for the person you’re meant to spend forever with? What if you gave your heart away, and even though you were hurt, this moment was important for you to experience in order to become stronger, to fight for yourself?

What if the purpose of your heartbreak was healing?

We walk around believing that there is a soulmate out there, someone with whom our lives will fall into place. And while yes, that’s true, there is someone out there for us, we can’t search solely for perfection, and we can’t discredit ourselves for the people we’ve fallen into along the way.

There are no mistakes in love. Continue reading

30 Simple And Wonderful Things That Happen When You Start Loving Yourself


1. You look in the mirror, and smile.

2. You appreciate that little birthmark on your cheek, the wrinkle above your eyelid, and all the small things you used to label as blemishes or imperfections.

3. You wiggle your toes and marvel at the simplicity of something that not all people can do.

4. You pull out those heels you tucked in the back of your closet, and you rock them.

5. You admire your hands and what a blessing it is to hold others in yours.

6. You notice your leg muscles and walk with pride. Continue reading

In Christ You Are A Victor, Not A Victim

“The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.”

— Romans 8:15

I am no longer a slave to fear, for I am a child of God. The verse from the worship song echo across the church, filling both the room and our hearts with the affirming sound. I close my eyes and lean into my seat, letting the beauty of that simple statement wash over me.

I am a child of God.

These words are so simple, but so profound. To be God’s son, God’s daughter, to recognize this as my identity transforms myself from a sinner to a saint. In God’s eyes, I am no longer less. I am no longer unworthy. I am no longer separated from His love. To Him, I have always been made in His creation. I have always been a part of Him. This is simply a reminder that I must shed my negative beliefs about myself and walk in the identity He has given me.

I must remind myself that in Him, I am holy, not weak. Continue reading

Unremembering Abuse

I wish I knew
how to unremember your words,
the harshness,
the way they still sit
heavy on my tongue.
Like an inner monologue
I repeat
the same
sentences—longing
to soothe these chapped lips,
open-mouthed
aching for rain. Continue reading

Follow Both Your Heart And Head

Use your head. Follow your heart.

We talk about our bodies and minds as if they’re two separate things, as if these parts of ourselves are not entangled, not aligned.

We speak to ourselves as if we need to proceed with caution, as if, for some reason, it is impossible to exist in a space where we are led by both our logic and emotions, by both our brains and the muscles beating in our chests.

My heart and my mind are inexplicably connected, and yet, I always feel like my body is three steps behind my thoughts. There is a single touch, and before the sensation can flood through my entire being, I am already calculating, already trying to understand the way and the why behind each current of electricity in my veins.

For me, everything begins with the heart, with the pitter-patter, with the laugh that echoes from somewhere deep within, unconsciously, as if my body knows love before I can even process its existence.

But then, the mind comes, flooding me with images, with words, with lines of poetry I can hear, even in the silence. And that’s how I’ve always known—the feeling, then replaced by the words writing themselves effortlessly in my head. Love.

To me, it has always been a combination. Never just my heart, just my head. So why do we tell people to follow one or the other, as if it’s not possible to be wrapped up in both? Continue reading

Finding Your Place In The Larger Conversation: Thoughts From This Week’s #ReadingList

Every week I do a roundup of some of the best articles/writing/art I’ve stumbled upon, and why it resonated with me. I started doing this simply because in order to be a better writer (and human, really) I need to read. And in my busy life, I don’t always remember what I read or when, so I wanted to catalog everything in one place. I also get asked a lot about my reading list, what inspires me, etc. So for the people that follow me, here’s what I’ve been thinking about this week—and here are previous weeks—and if you have something to say/share/add, feel free to comment! Continue reading

Maybe Love Is Enough

“This just doesn’t make any sense,” he says. We’re sitting across from one another in a plastic set of table and chairs outside of a coffee shop. The California air is cloudy and damp. I pull the fabric of my romper tighter around my middle and resist the urge to lean over and take a sip of his coffee. I had told him I didn’t want any—to go back on my stubbornness would seem like a surrender, one I wasn’t quite ready to give.

I study the lines of his face—thirty-four today, but one could hardly tell, save for the gentle wrinkles around his eyes. I have the same ones, though slightly less worn, still prominent around my face. Sometimes I catch him looking at those lines in the bathroom mirror, drawing the corners of his cheeks into a frown. I wish he could see them the way I do—markers of his fatherhood, his story, his strength.

“I know…” I say, trailing off.

We’re talking about our future, about the places we’ll go and live. And I’m struck by the thought that figuring out our forever is so foolish. How can we know where we’ll go, who we’ll become? Why is it that we’re supposed to know, have it all planned? Why is it normal, expected, for people to understand how to navigate a road they’ve never even traveled? Continue reading

Pour Into People Who Pour Into You

There are some people you’ll meet in this life who will only love you temporarily. There are souls who will intertwine with yours for a moment, then unravel and wander away. There are friends who are not meant to stay forever. There are people who will only take and never give.

None of these impermanent people, or their eventual departures determine your worth.

But it hurts, oh it hurts when they leave. You give yourself away, only to end up empty. You put your time and energy into a relationship that only falls short. You love, only to be chastised for caring too much. You ache, only to be told you’re sensitive, emotional, or weak.

But there is nothing wrong with you. Continue reading

You Are Always Whole

“I’m broken.” Have you ever said those words to yourself? Have you ever believed them? Spoke them to truth? Identified with them until they became the way you looked at your reflection in the bedroom mirror?

‘Broken’ is a word we use to describe ourselves when something aches, when something goes wrong, when we lose someone we love or a relationship falls apart around us. ‘Broken’ is a word we cling to, sometimes even desperately, when we no longer know who we are without the security of a loved one’s arms around our shoulders, or feelings of security we’ve grown comfortable with.

‘Broken’ is a word we’ve learned to claim, a word that has become more of a noun than an adjective.

But we are not broken.

There may be pieces of us that ache. There may be fragments of our hearts left in ruins after a breakup or loss. There may be voices in our head telling us that we can’t, that we’re alone, that there’s nothing left for us. There may be things that feel off, or wrong. There may be moments where we can barely lift our head from the pillows, or when we turn our face from the sun.

There may be so much loss around us, it feels like we’ll never find our footing again.

But we are not broken. Continue reading