making a comeback with 13.1

I haven't blogged in a long, long time. And honestly I haven't missed it very much. I got kind of tired of the sponsored contact taking over the blogisphere and the increase in shallow posts and decrease in heartfelt connections I was noticing. Then I started a business and it took most of my heart and attention, so I thought about blogging even less. Then it started to even out and I started to feel more like I knew what I was doing and less like I was a clueless pretender.
Lately though I've thought a lot about it. I love to write and while some of the connections found in blog world are superficial and forced, I do have some really wonderful friends I wouldn't know without having been a blogger.
I started to think about maybe writing again. 
Then I signed up for a half marathon and started training.

This is a pretty huge deal for me. As those of you who have read this blog for a long time, before I dropped out of blog world, know, March is my 4 year mark in eating disorder recovery. My body was very unhealthy for a long time, and two years ago I ran a 5k to make a healthy connection with it. Now, I'm running 13.1 miles on May 1st to really prove my body's strength, and my own mental strength to be able to persevere through this.
Let me tell you right now: training as a non-athletic person SUCKS. It's really hard right now and I'm terrified of race day. I've never been good at anything athletic and this feels super strange to be doing. 
Blogging has this really big benefit of keeping you accountable. If you're doing something crazy and you put it out there for the whole world to see, you kind of have to stick to it. So I figured this was the perfect time to make a comeback...at least here and there. Half marathon training is hard. It's overwhelming. It takes everything I've got, mentally, physically, and emotionally to make it through the runs that feel like they'll never end. It would be so easy to quit. But putting myself out there like this gives me one more reason not to. One more reason to stay dedicated. One more reason to push myself every day.
I hope you'll join me on this journey and forgive me for my total absence from blog life. My updates come a lot more frequently on Instagram, so follow me there and keep me motivated. Also, if you have any advice for my crazy self, please share.

the comparison game took the joy out of blogging.

Well hey there. It's been months since I've written anything here. I kept making excuses for myself, thinking "well life is just busy right now, I don't have time." And that was sort of true. We moved in kind of a rush, were long distance a few days a week for two months while Drew finished out his job in our old town before starting his new one back in our hometown, and my work schedule was changing and becoming more demanding.
But I'm an early riser. Weekends mean sleeping in for Drew if he's off but getting up early and enjoying a morning of quiet for me. Now he works night shifts and I've got a few hours before bed of just being by myself after I've finished my to-do list for the day.
Yes I've had some health problems show up that knocked my energy levels down pretty darn low for a few weeks. But I write naturally, so energy really wasn't an excuse for not writing.
Here's what it really came down to: I was busy comparing myself to everyone else's success and stage of life and didn't feel like I had anything exciting enough to share and couldn't get over the fact that my life didn't look like I thought it should.
I can't promise I'll be a consistent blogger ever again. I live with OCD and sometimes it really does make it hard to not spiral into comparison on probably a deeper level than people with normal brain chemistry. 
I can promise I'm not going to have sponsorships again. At least not for a long time. And I won't be doing any ad campaigns for any companies. If I'm going to write at all I'm going to write from the heart.
So many posts in blog world these days are promotional. I see new product reviews, posts promoted by other bloggers because they're obligated to because of sponsorships, and superficial writing constantly because numbers and dollars are taking over the blogiverse. Page views, sponsorships, ad campaigns...at some point it stops being genuine. And it stops being exciting or interesting or heartfelt. 
I want to read heartfelt. I want to see the person behind the screen. Is the person behind the screen sometimes really telling their friends about a really great product they just discovered? Absolutely! I do sometimes! But most of my conversations with my friends are about things that happened that we found hilarious or upsetting. They're about what we've been feeling lately. They're about real life.
I don't want to blog if it's just about making a list of how to do this or that or why you should try this new thing I got paid to tell you about. I don't want to share posts that didn't actually make me laugh or inspire me or hit me on a heart level, so why on earth would I ever write those posts? 
I also don't want to blog if it becomes a thing that steals my joy because my life doesn't look like yours, and for some reason I think it's supposed to. For a while it did take my joy. It did leave me wondering what was so wrong with me that I couldn't be ready for the same things someone else was ready for. It made me question whether my life was even worth writing about because it wasn't full of so many new or glamorous or attention getting events as someone else's. 
So I'm not saying I'm fully back or that I'll have a posting schedule or even that I won't someday choose to quit blogging entirely. That's a real possibility someday, maybe even someday soon. 
But once upon a time blogging was fun. It was real. It was enjoyable. It let me write frequently, and I love to write. So I'm semi-returning. When I feel like writing, I'll write. When I feel like sharing, I'll share. But if I feel my joy slipping away in the comparison game or the numbers game or the growth game, I probably will quit. And you know what? That's good. Because anytime something you're doing for fun starts to steal your joy, it's time to leave, at least temporarily.
I'm glad I left for a while. I'm glad I didn't think about numbers. I'm glad I didn't focus on comments or shares or campaigns or anything else I'm seeing take over blogging everywhere. 
Time will tell whether or not I decide to quit blogging for real. For now, though, I'm just going to let myself write when I want about what I want, and not worry for a second about what my blog is "supposed" to look like. Or what my life is "supposed" to look like either.
Comparison game, peace out. Ain't nobody got time for that.

keeping positive body image during the season of plenty

   Sunday super early in the morning I woke up to do all my grocery shopping for Thanksgiving (I hate crowds so I picked a time when no one else would want to go.) My fridge and cabinets are full of supplies for Thursday's big feast. Three pies are ready to be made. Two types of potatoes. Two turkeys. Two types of stuffing. Two appetizers. One green vegetable. Cranberry jelly. Wine. Sparkling cider. Cappuccinos. Lattes.    There was a time not that long ago when that list would have me terrified. Last week, I got pretty real and admitted that I had a seven year struggle with eating disorders that hit its lowest point just three years ago. So yeah. These holiday dinners used to be my nightmare.    But...Thanksgiving and Christmas have always been my two favorite days of the year. I love being with family. I love preparing to serve them. I love decorating my home.    And you know what? I love the food. And on Thursday, I won't be letting myself think about the calories or the fat content or whether or not my jeans will fit me tomorrow.    And you shouldn't either.    The holidays are meant to be a time of joy. A time of celebration, of laughter, of family, of friends. A time to indulge in life. Not about strategically eating meals so that you don't consume too many calories or "bad" foods.    So, over the last three years of recovery (because let's be really honest...recovery is a lifelong process and you're never 100% past the voices of anorexia and bulimia), I've developed some tools to help myself enjoy life, including seasons of plenty and indulgence. And I know there are many many women out there who have deep struggles with body image and for whom this time of year might be very difficult, so I'm sharing my strategies with you.    1 || Put away the scale. At least until the new year. Just don't look at the numbers. Numbers can taunt you. Yes, they might be good motivators if you're on a fitness journey. However, this is the season of baking, living around the table with those you love, and enjoying slowing down. So don't get on the scale, don't worry about your weight. If you realize some of your clothes are a little tight, maybe get a little more active. But don't think about how many pounds you gained at Thanksgiving or Christmas.    2 || Practice gratitude for your body. Look at yourself in the mirror and recognize the value of each and every inch of it. Your arms you think are a little too soft? They give amazing hugs to let people know they're loved, and you can't undervalue that. The belly you think isn't as flat as it should be? It gives deep resounding laughter in the making of memories. The thighs you think should be gapped standing still? They let you walk up to the door of a friend's house and deliver a package to show them you care. Your body is beautiful.
3 || Remember this: Size is not a valid compliment or insult. Why do we look at someone's size and define them by their body's mass? It's absurd. A body houses a soul. It is a vessel in which a person lives. You are not defined by your vessel. Your size has absolutely NOTHING to do with you. So when someone tells you you look thin, say thanks, be polite, but don't take it in. And don't tell someone else they look thin either. Because size isn't what makes someone beautiful. Instead, tell your best friend she has the greatest laugh in the whole world. Tell your sister you absolutely love how she shows gratitude every day. Tell your mom she always knows how to make people feel welcome in her life. Those are the real compliments. Those are the ones that matter.    This is not an exhaustive list by any means. There are a million little tools I've picked up over the last three years to help me not get down on myself. These, though, these are my favorites. These are my fallbacks when I'm having a hard day. These are the three that I turn to when I start to wonder if I should really eat that snack.
And these are the three I want to share with the world. Because I truly believe if we all looked at ourselves through these lenses, we would all be happier.
What do you do to feel beautiful during seasons of plenty?

5 lessons from a 5k and why 3.1 miles is a little bigger to me

That's me passing the lady pulling a wagon. I did the first mile in 9 minutes and it felt amazing.

3.1 miles. Doesn't sound like much, does it? But 3.1 miles was a very big deal for me. In March of 2012 I was very thin and very sick. Running 3.1 miles in March of 2012 would have been physically impossible. On Saturday I ran 3.1 miles and crossed the finish line. On Saturday I did what was once impossible. This is what I learned on Saturday.

1. Who you were and where you were does not determine what you can do now. Change is not impossible. I crossed a finish line I never could have before.
2. Setting small goals is a lot easier than staring one big one right in the face. If I had just stared at the map of the track, I would've been so overwhelmed by the race. But setting small goals along the way made it better. "Just make it past that stop sign up there and then you can walk for 60 seconds." "Just pass that kid up ahead and then you can slow it down." 
3. Asking for support is good. Having my husband and parents waiting for me at the end of the race made it so much more special. Running straight into a hug from the three people who knew just how much went into that race was so emotional and rewarding.
4. It's okay that a short race is a big deal to some people. We all have stories, we all have challenges, and we all have things that mean more to us than maybe they would to others. I cried the last half mile of the race because I knew I was so close and that crossing that finish line was going to be one of the most meaningful moments of my life thus far.
5. So what if you've always hated running? One race can change that. Now that I've done one, I can't wait to do another. Running felt so satisfying and the soreness in my legs the next day was probably the best feeling pain ever. Somehow over the summer I became a runner, and I've never done anything athletic before in all my life.

When you do something you never thought you could, the sense of accomplishment is the best feeling ever. Knowing how far I have come in the last two and a half years and that there is no limit to where I can go now feels amazing. I didn't know I had it in me to do something like this. I didn't know my body could do it. I didn't know how much I was capable of doing.
But I did it. And no matter where you have been or where you are at, you can do that thing that seems impossible too. You can chase whatever that dream is fearlessly. Who cares where you were? I don't. I know you can go anywhere you want, because I did.
What has been your most rewarding achievement in life? Why?

the best giveaway ever. and another one, because this is my 100th post ever

100 posts, y'all. That's a lot of words, pictures, effort, and fun. And I'm loving it. Something to celebrate for sure. Blogging is a wonderful thing, but it's also a lot of work, and it takes a while to really learn the ropes and figure out what works for you. There are a million ways to go about it, and no two bloggers are precisely alike, which is why finding resources to help get going is really important.

The Influence Network has been such an incredible learning resource for me. Since joining, I've been able to take classes, download old ones, read articles, print out tools, and just develop as a person and blogger. So today, I, along with some wonderful friends, have the best giveaway ever for you...a lifetime membership!

I would not be able to bring this giveaway to you without the help of some amazing bloggers! These ladies all have made this possible so make sure to check them out and show them some love.

Oh Simple Thoughts / Oak & Oats / The Tiny Painter / Heavens to Betsy

Mrs. Robbins Sprinkles / I'm Always Ashley / Sunday Charm / Flowers in my Hair / Sew My Soul Frankly My Dear / Open Spaces / Seasons with the Strattons

Oh, and the lifetime membership includes the following:

10 free classes to take anytime
Open Forums
Weekly Free Resources
Discipleship Groups
Pursuit Groups
One Free Monthly Class
Extra Surprises!!

So this is seriously the way to go, lifetime members receive their money's worth times 1,000 in my opinion! You get so much and the investment is well spent! The giveaway will run for one week, and all entries will be verified so play fair! We will email the winner on how to receive your membership upon the closing of the giveaway! Good luck!

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And...because you have to have some coffee while you take these incredible classes, here's another giveaway for a $35 gift card to Starbucks!

Sew My Soul | Just a little bit Louder | Seriously, Sarah? | Robyn's Nest

the giveaway is run via rafflecopter & will be open for one week. it is open internationally - Robyn will mail the giftcard anywhere! you may enter as much or as little as you like! if you already follow, you are entitled to a free entry! enter using the rafflecopter below & good luck! 



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skinny is a swear word

Want to know a secret? A little trick, one that helped me break {mostly} free of skinny thinking?
I live in a world without scales.

There is no scale under my bathroom sink. I don't go to a personal trainer at the gym because weigh ins suck. I turn around backwards at the doctor's office and ask them not to tell me my weight unless they think I'm unhealthy.

I have no idea what I weigh.

Some would argue having an awareness of your size is important to know how healthy you are. I say, I have awareness! If I go to the store and need a size 4 in that cute skirt over there, I need to go eat a freakin' cheeseburger and extra fries because size 4 is too small for my body. If I have to go put on a size 10, it's time to stop getting take-out so much and go back to yoga.

But I don't know how much I weigh. Because for me, knowing is unhealthy. Knowing gets me thinking. What if I could drop just ten pounds? Yes, ten sounds easy. Oh, I dropped that ten, let's just go for five more. Well hey, that came off quick, how about another five just for good measure?

I do not want to live in a prison made of scales. So I live in a wilderness where scales are unheard of. Because skinny doesn't matter. Skinny isn't healthy. Skinny SUCKS. If you see me on the street, please do not tell me I look skinny. Do not tell me I'm so thin. Do not tell me you wish you were my size.

And I will never tell you that you look skinny, even if you are. Because I don't give a damn about skinny. Skinny is the F-word of my life. As is fat. Size is not a valid compliment or insult.

Tell me you LOVE that color on me. Tell me my dress is really flattering. Tell me I have such great blue eyes. Tell me you love my smile. Tell me my laugh is contagious. Tell me you love how genuine I am.

Tell me ANYTHING besides "you look skinny." Tell me I look healthy--healthy is good, healthy IS a compliment. Healthy ROCKS. But skinny isn't healthy.

Want to know a secret? Something that will help you live in a freer, happier world?

You were made ON purpose, FOR a purpose. And that purpose won't be found in a dress size or a number on a scale. It's found in your passions, your friendships, your marriage, your family. It's found in your community, in the things you sacrifice yourself for.

It's found in Christ. He made you. He loves you. And you know what? He doesn't give a damn about skinny either. He wants your heart and soul. That's it.

Over the next seven days, I challenge you not to use a single adjective about size or weight when describing yourself or others. I challenge you to avoid the scale entirely. I challenge you to think beyond the numbers and see the true person in the mirror.

What is your secret to healthy, happy living? How can I encourage you to think happy, not skinny?

This post was inspired by two recent conversations, one with my mentor and one with a new friend. Thanks to both.

pruning

I love plants. Flowers, trees, grasses, weeds...they are all lovely to me. I love the way they spring to life from tiny little seeds. I love the way they transform as they grow. I also love to watch them flourish after pruning.

I have a lovely plant that is brilliant for ground cover; it grows and spreads so quickly and when used in a container has a gorgeous quality of spilling over the sides when it runs out of ground to cover. I bought two of them, but for some reason only put one in its container. Its brother plant was a little neglected, and after two weeks in the hot Columbia sun, it appeared to be dead.

But...there's always a but in a post like this, isn't there?...but. It wasn't dead at all. There was still life in that little neglected container, being held back by a thick layer of unhealthy remains. So instead of throwing that little plant away, not looking for the small signs of life that might still be there, I started to pull the layers of death away. There was a lot of it, and I wondered the whole time if it was going to be worth it. If I should've just let it be and not bothered to remove what was holding this plant back.

Then I got to the underside of the unhealthy, choking remains. And I saw what I was looking for. New life. Ready to thrive, and grow, and spread into something beautiful. I saw the hope of a future for this little plant. And I began to think how life is a lot like that.

Sometimes, you see, there are things in our life that are deeply unhealthy, that are keeping the freshness in us from coming out. Sometimes, there are friendships that need to be trimmed away. Sometimes it's old habits that are like a layer of death keeping us from the light ahead. Sometimes it's our own negativity keeping us from seeing the sun.

So we prune. We separate the unhealthy from what is ready to bloom. We take away what is hopeless to make room for newness. We say goodbye to friendships despite the pain it comes with, we make new habits that help us in order to drop those that hinder us. We actively seek out joy in our lives to make the pain easier to live with, and keep it from stopping our ability to grow. We prune.

It's not easy. Sometimes it seems pointless. Sometimes you hardly remember why you started this process, and question everything. And then you break through to the other side and beauty is waiting for you. The layers of unhealthy weeds have been pulled away, and new sprouts greet you. And you remember why you started. Because this moment, this peace and loveliness, this is what you knew you would find. This part of life was just ahead.

Aren't you glad you didn't stop pruning?

blogger coffee date

Yesterday I shared that I've hired Rachel to do an overhaul on my blog, which I could not be more excited about. I love reading what is on other blogger's hearts and minds, and I love to write about my own thoughts and desires,so I was thrilled when I discovered that today, she and Madison of Wetherills Say I Do would hosting a blogger coffee date linkup. I'm so happy I discovered Rachel's blog, for so many reasons!

So, if we sat down for coffee together, I would order a tall no water Chai latte with skim milk if we were at Starbucks, or a large house blend with a pump of vanilla at any other coffee shop. You can learn a lot about a shop by their house blend.

We would start with casual conversation, the usual small talk, I would ask you about your work and tell you I am so in love with mine it's not even funny. But alas, I am not very fond of small talk. I enjoy long, deep conversations with my friends, so the small talk would quickly transform to something more.

I would probably have a journal in my purse, because I carry one everywhere just in case. I would pull it out and show you this little hand lettering of a part of 2 Chronicles 20:17 I did last Sunday.

This verse and the story it's found in made a big impact on my faith. Lately I haven't been quite as sure of God's presence as I have been in the past. Lately I have felt like He wasn't there, and I had to control it all. If we were sitting down for coffee, I would tell you that reading this verse was the biggest reassurance He's still on my side.

I would tell you that this week I have gained so much insight into myself. I'm finding my voice in a whole new way. I would tell you I've rediscovered my passion for writing, and that I've realized it's okay that Sew My Soul had to change along with me. I'm seeing some possibilities for my future that make me so excited and nervous at the same time. And my dear, sweet husband is so supportive through it all. Every new realization I've had and every possibility I've been seeing has him so excited for me to. That man is such a blessing. God really outdid himself.

So, friend, what would you tell me if we sat down for coffee? How is your heart? What has you excited and is awakening your soul today?

Grab the button and link up with us!

going home & going through changes

Lately I've been making changes. I've been growing up, getting to know myself better, and creating a home that feels more like mine. Husband and I recently went to my parent's house to dog-sit while they went out of town, and I was surprised to find that their house doesn't feel like home anymore.

Mom's sweet puppy, Cali

I've been putting lots of effort into making our little house feel more like ours, and it wasn't until we returned to it after our weekend away that I realized it had transformed from a sweet house we were leasing for the next two years into my home. When I walked in the door to mom and dad's, that sense of relief and contentment that only comes from going home didn't wash over me. For the first time in my life, I felt like just a visitor. But when we got back to our sweet little house in our sweet little neighborhood, I felt it. The peace of coming home.

My little coffee station {diy mug tutorial here}

Maybe it's because I've redecorated two rooms precisely to our tastes. Drew is represented in our guest bedroom, aka the Man Cave, filled with Gamecock memorabilia. The office looks like me when you see the aqua walls and white furniture filled with books and delicate touches that remind me who I am.

I guess all the weeks of work made a bigger impact than I thought. I'm home here, in my rental with my husband and hound dog. It's ours and we're making it feel like us more all the time. And I find myself at peace here in a way I wasn't sure I ever would. Thanks, God, for putting me where I didn't want to move and helping me find home in an unexpected place.

In addition to growing up and making my house a home, I'm making lots of changes here on the blog. On Tuesday I announced that I'm transitioning to lifestyle blogging and taking the focus away from how-to. I've been thinking about another major step for weeks, and this morning it became official. The blog is getting a makeover by Rachel from Oh Simple Thoughts. I read her blog daily, and love her aesthetic. Even though part of my career involves graphic design, I've found it so frustrating to design for myself. After lots of weighing the options and asking Husband what he thinks, I finally reached out to Rachel, and I cannot wait to see what this wonderful woman does! So excited to have her help!

Does visiting your parents still feel like going home or have you made your own space home? What did you do to create your own space?

why this posting regularly thing hasn't happened

Lately I've been thinking. About me, what makes me tick, what brings me peace, what brings me joy, and how do I find balance in my life between responsibilities and my passions? The thing is, this blog started as a refashioning blog about sewing and how to do it. And lately I haven't stitched a thing. I have a dresser in my office with several pieces ready to go under the knife pinking shears and I just haven't done it. Why?

My little space to write. {print from vallarina creative}

I love to sew. Truly I do. When I do it I have joy and fun and a sense of accomplishment. But my heart hasn't come alive when I write tutorials on sewing like it once did. When I was in college, I loved how-to posts and I loved sharing projects. But life these days hasn't lent itself to how-to. And my heart isn't in how-to anymore.

My place from which to sew, pre-office makeover. Fun fact: this sewing table belonged to Drew's grandmother and his father refinished the top when he was in high school. It's the real deal from the 1920's.

This blog is going to undergo some changes here. There will be the occasional stitchery, and I will be sharing some projects here and there. But I'm not going to be a craft blogger anymore. Lifestyle blogging is what fits me here and now.

Writing is one of my deepest joys. I have journals all over the house. Any time I'm just having a hard day or just not quite myself, my sweet husband asks, "have you written anything in your journals this week?" He knows how I love to see words flow onto a page. He knows I learn myself and my heart more with each entry. He knows my passion. So while I'm not going to be a craft blogger anymore, I am going to keep blogging here.

I've toyed with the idea of building a whole new blog from scratch. I've considered that it might be easier to transition if I create something new. After all, the name of this blog lends itself to crafting immediately. But Sew My Soul means a little more than just crafting. You see, our lives are pieces of thread woven into a tapestry that is all of Creation. It is being stitched, embroidered, developed, and sewn each day. The small piece of the tapestry that is my life is being stitched as well. My soul, so to speak, is in a constant state of being sewn. Thus, Sew My Soul will continue to be my blogging home.

My fantastic mom/bff and I at the event I spent the last six months planning. A little bit of who I am in this picture. No, that's not a real tattoo. We had a body painter who drew inspiration from everyone's colorful outfits.

What does this mean for you, sweet reader? Well, it means you'll see more things like my thoughts on marriage and body image. You'll begin to see things like me joining a linkup with Princess Burlap on sweetness, or with Rachel of Oh Simple Thoughts for coffee dates. You'll see more of my heart here. You'll see more of real life. Sometimes I'll show you a craft or two, but I'm not going to push myself to be pumping them out constantly. When you come here, you'll be getting to know me. This blog is going to be real from now on. Real me, real thoughts, real life, not just a little thing I like to do in my spare time. This isn't to say I don't love craft blogs; it just doesn't fit who I am anymore.


Welcome to the new Sew My Soul. I hope you'll enjoy its fresh start with me.

5 on friday: five most embarrassing moments

This post is inspired by a comments discussion with Lisa at Two Martinis in which I described my horrific fear of pedicures and the incident that has led me to refuse all future pedicures.

Also this is my first five on Friday list and I'm about to publicly humiliate myself with it. Please be nice to me...

Also sorry for the lack of images. I don't have pictures to go with these stories. You'll understand soon.

Five most embarrassing moments:

1. When I kicked a Canadian pedicurist in the face and maybe broke her nose.
2. When I was three and farted so loudly at the kitchen table at a big family dinner it got named The Classic.
3. When I was eleven and casually asked my mom what anal sex was over after school snack.
4. When I was a freshman in college in Charleston, SC and not used to uneven sidewalks and ran into a large folding sign and faceplanted in the middle of the entrance to one of the busiest parking garages in downtown.
5. When I was at work two weeks ago in a very important meeting and stood up and heard a ripping sound and discovered my pencil skirt ripped all the way up to the waistband.

Stories behind each...

One. I hate having my feet touched. At all. Never ever ever ever touch my feet please ever. When I was 13 I went on a business trip with my parents to this convention in Canada at this really cool lodge with all kinds of amenities including an indoor pool, horseback riding, shopping center, and salon and spa. Our luggage had gotten lost and we were all having a terrible time, so to make us kiddos feel better we each got to do something "special." My something special was a haircut and a pedicure. I got a great hair cut that I loved and sat down in the pedicure chair thinking I was just going to soak my feet in the warm water and then someone would just paint my nails. But then the exfoliation started...and I couldn't take it...my reflexes got the best of me and my foot spasmed and before I knew it the lady down by my feet had a baddd bloody nose. Manager asked me to leave and I RAN out of there. No more pedicures. Ever.

Two. I was literally the shyest child ever. I barely spoke to anyone who was not my mom or my dad at all if I could help it. So big family dinners with all extended family and everything was the scariest thing in the world. One night we went to my grandparents' house for a big huge dinner and I was nervous as can be. Right when my grandpa started to pray, all of a sudden the loudest.fart.ever. escaped my tiny three year old body. Everyone laughed and I started bawling and hid upstairs for the next hour out of embarrasment. It's now fondly referred to as The Classic.

Three. To help me prepare for growing up mom had gotten me a few books about changing bodies and such because I was showing some early signs of puberty and had already had to have The Talk which I didn't fully comprehend. I was a smart kid so mom didn't really read the books before giving them to me assuming I would be ok with them. She had always said I could ask her anything, which I fully believed. One of the books mentioned something about the dangers of anal sex, and I had basically no clue what that meant. So after school one day, I casually said, "Mom, I have a question. What's anal sex?" Needless to say all future books were proofread carefully before being placed in my hands.

Four. Fast forward to college, freshman year, first few weeks, and me in a new city where I know no one. I was going to eat with a few of the people who lived in my dorm building, trying very hard to seem cool and not nearly as naive as I really was, and not paying attention--bad idea when you are as clumsy as I am. You know those folded signs they have all over the place in front of stores and for event parking? Well there was a very large one right in the middle of the sidewalk in a highly visible location, but I was trying to be cool and make eye contact with my hopeful new friends, so I didn't see it. I walked into it, and did a front flip landing straight on my face. Very uncool. Lots of people saw it. I had bruises all over for a week.

Five. I have a big butt. I've mentioned it before in refashion posts that it has to be carefully considered while making new clothes. I have literally one pencil skirt that fits. Just one. So I wore it last week knowing I had a big meeting for a very cool project we are working on and I wanted to look professional and fashionable. The meeting went great, and at the end, I stood up to shake hands goodbye, and I heard an almost cartoonish ripping sound behind me. I carefully took a back hallway to my office, shut the door, and turned my skirt around, and discovered it had torn ALL the way up to the waistband. All. The. Way. I did as much damage control as possible with safety pins, went and told my boss so I could go home and change, and after she laughed for a good ten minutes, she said "Now you can go home and tell Drew you strip at work!"

So there you go. My top five most embarrassing moments. Linking up with Carolina Charm today with this one...hi, you who found me through this link up...please read my other posts so you can see I'm not always this lame.

What are your most embarrassing moments? (you have to tell me one...I just told you about farting at dinner and baring my butt in the office)

tuesday is a day for thanks

...thanks for a new home to love and grow in together as we dive further in to our journey of marriage...

...thanks for a job that allows me to do what i love and help provide for our family's future...

...thanks for the struggles of my past that led me to renewal in Christ and a strengthened core...

...thanks for family and the truest of friends who stood by me no matter what...

...thanks for friendship with my parents deeper than i could've dreamed...

...thanks for love growing ever deeper as we choose to love and serve every day...

...thanks for examples of marriage and commitment in my life...

25 years in 2013

50 years in 2013

...thanks for a husband whose only greater love than me is God...

...thanks for grace and its limitless reach.

{sourced via pinterest}

what do you give thanks for today?

why did i get married?

This post is part of the Happy Wives Club Blog Tour which I am delighted to be a part of along with hundreds of inspiring bloggers. To learn more and join us, CLICK HERE!  

I'm so obviously a marriage expert, right? I mean, I've got real field experience here! I've been married one. whole. month. plus one day. Thus, I'm most definitely qualified to be considered a marriage expert.

Not at all. I'm no expert. It's still strange sometimes. We still forget this is real life, this is forever, we aren't just playing house. It's still new. 

And yet, I have found that one month of marriage has taught me more about myself than I ever thought it could. I know my husband so much better. I know me so much better. I see God so much more. Marriage has deepened everything.

When I decided to join the Happy Wives Club Blog Tour, I knew I would write about why I got married. I'm young. Fresh out of college. Building my career. Just starting out.

It's weird to be a wife in your early twenties in this culture. Five days before my wedding while buying fabric for draping the gorgeous pergola my dad built for us to be married under, the woman cutting my fabric actually tried to tell me getting married now was a mistake. "You're just a baby still! You should be exploring, not being a wife! Why are you getting married now?"

The woman asking me had two pieces of information about me: My wedding was five days away and I really needed ten yards of a specific fabric, and I looked young. She was a stranger. She didn't know my name or age. She didn't know my story. She didn't know anything about me. 

What she knew was that marriage is hard. It's huge. It changes everything. She knew that many people with more life experience than I look like I have can't make it work. She knew that in America, a lasting and happy marriage is weird.

What she didn't know was how acutely aware of all of those things I am. 

For many years, I swore up and down I was never getting married. I was never going to be tied down to someone else. I was convinced that marriage meant giving up all the things I love most about myself. I knew all the statistics. I had snarky comments under my breath ready any time I saw someone I knew get engaged before the age of at least 25. 

What I didn't know was love. I didn't know how dearly I was loved at the time. I had never found faith. I was so opposed to the entire concept of God. And I didn't appreciate the love I had from my family.

When I met Jesus and lay down my heart at his feet, it began to change. I began to see how love worked in my life. I began to see how acts of service and sacrifice didn't mean you lost yourself, but rather that you gained a deeper love for those you served and were served by. I began to see respect evolve through genuine appreciation of who people were. I learned how to be a friend, a good friend, for the first time. I learned how to be loving, compassionate, and sacrifice. I learned how much deeper each of those qualities made my relationships. And I realized I had been missing the point of love all along.

I had taken a year to be intentionally single. It was the best thing I've ever done for myself. I wanted to learn who I was and who God was. For much of that year I prayed for the chance to just apologize to Drew for how poorly I loved him in our past. Finally, at the very end of the year, I decided to give it to God. A week later, the man I would marry called me. Ten minutes in to our six and a half hour phone call I knew we would get married.

I know the risks. I know the statistics. I know it's a struggle. I know that we are still in the honeymoon stage, and that we will hit harder times in our future. I know why lasting marriage is weird. I know why being a young wife is weird. Because when you're young, so much is unknown. So much is unlearned. So much of life has yet to happen to you.

What I do know is that quite a bit of life has happened to me. I've had more of life than many my age. I know the years that brought me to the place I was when Drew came back into my life. I know the tears that got me there. And I know the God who planned this for me. I know the Savior who sacrificed his life for me, the purest and most monumental sacrifice of love in history. I know the love that surrounds me in faith, family and friendships every day. 

The love I know is why I got married. The sacrificial love of a mother and father pouring into the lives of their children even when their children can't see or appreciate it. The selfless love of friends who stay up all night talking to you because you just need someone to listen at three in the morning. The love of a heavenly Father whose ultimate sacrifice gives His children freedom from the pain of their pasts. And the love of a man like Drew pursuing my heart every day.

I got married because I have fallen in love with a man who only loves my God more than he loves me. A man who pursues me every day. A man whose wisdom I trust implicitly. A man who happens to be my very best friend in all the world. A man with whom I want to share all of the life that has yet to happen to me.

Yes, I'm young. Yes, it's weird. But it's right. And one month and one day in, I'm already more in love than I was the day I donned a white dress and veil. More in love than I was the day I was given a gorgeous diamond ring. More than I ever knew I could be. And the longer we have together, the deeper this love will run.

We may be young, but we've seen much more of life than you may think. And we would rather see the rest of it together.

Fawn Weaver, the founder of the Happy Wives Club wrote a book about the best marriage secrets the world has to offer. They say the book is like “Eat, Pray, Love meets The 5 Love Languages.” I say the book is inspiring. You can grab a copy HERE.

no such thing as a "bridal body"

One of my favorite parts of getting engaged was getting to go through bridal magazines. I loved seeing all of the different trends, the styles of dresses available to me, and the many many ways a wedding can be unique.

This was a going away/happy engagement gift from my former boss and coworkers. I love them and loved my time there.

But.

In every. single. issue. there was at least one article about "Getting that bridal body!" or "Bridal Bootcamp" or "Firm Up those Arms in Just Six Weeks!" Then there were the diets. "Why you MUST do a juice fast!" "Magic Belly-Shrinking Drink!" "Lose Ten Pounds Fast!"

I bought a wedding dress that fit my body the way it was when I got engaged. And I have kept my body the way it was when I got engaged. My fiance didn't propose to me on the terms and conditions that I be one of the girls in the bridal magazine by our wedding date. He didn't ask me to marry him if and only if I could fit into a sample size dress by the time we were going to take pictures. He didn't even ask me to marry him if and only if I promised not to gain an ounce between our engagement and our wedding. He asked me to marry him. Me. Not my body.

See that double chin? It's because I'm too happy to care how I look.

See the difference there? I am the bride. My body is not. I am in a dress. My body just holds the dress up. I say my vows. My body just enables me to give them sound. I marry Drew. My body just carries me down the aisle.

It took me years to realize that there is no such thing as a great body. If there is a great body then there must also be a bad body, and who am I to decide what a bad body is?

My body can dance with abandon. I promise I actually have serious rythm, even though this picture doesn't show it.

I'm a Christian. Therefore I believe that I was divinely designed. I also believe that every single person on this planet was divinely designed. And guess what? None of us are the same. Even identical twins have slight differences that make them unique. Because God didn't create humanity to all be alike. The bible does not say "God saw that Eve was five seven and 110 pounds and it was good." No two Biblical heroines were the same. God did not make good bodies and bad bodies. God made beautiful bodies in His image. Our sinful nature made good and bad bodies. Even if you aren't a Christian, this message is for you: No matter your faith, your body is not bad. It is beautiful. It is good. It allows you to love, laugh, explore, experience joy, grief, hurt, and comfort.

Thank you, body, for letting me experience this moment of joy.

There are healthy and unhealthy bodies. On both ends of the spectrum. I have been very thin and unhealthy. I've also been a little bigger than my normal and been unhealthy. But my body's healthy size and weight isn't what the brides in the magazine say. My body's healthy size is a gorgeous, curvy, 5'4" 140 lbs. I wear a size 8 most days, some days a 6, some days a 10. But I am not a size 6, 8, or 10. I am Kaitlin. I wear a size 6, 8, or 10. I am not 140 pounds. I just weigh 140 pounds. I am not 5'4". I just exist 5'4" above the ground.

There is no such thing as a bridal body. There is only a bride who has a body, no matter its size or shape.

I could tell you that I remember this lesson every day, but I would be lying to you. Some days I could probably write a post this long on how annoying it is to be pear shaped and how I wish I had a "thigh gap" or could get rid of the little bit of extra bulk around my hips and move it to my less than busty upper body. Some days I have to work really hard to remember that I am not defined by the body I live in.

Gym date! We try to be healthy together.

With my wedding just over three weeks away, I've missed the window on a bridal body. But you know what? I don't care. I already have a bridal body. Because I am the bride and I live in a body. I am a soul who was assigned a beautiful life with heartache and joy and grace by a loving and perfect God. He gave me a body He designed and equipped for me to live the life He intended for my soul. Even if you don't share my beliefs: You are still a soul living a life with heartache and beauty and endless possibilities. You have a body that will allow you to do all the things your soul desires.

I am a soul living in a body. I'll take good care of it, but I won't "beat it into bridal shape" or force it to "get skinny quick" like all of my magazines tell me I should. My magazines are wrong. I'm in bridal shape. It's just not the shape that's on the cover. And that is okay.