November 23, 2016

The Whole New Me

This whole new me has already started from the moment I found out that I'm pregnant. Well, I still indulge sometimes while missing those times when I just ate whatever I wanted and whatever pleased me but then it left me thinking about just how miserable I feel. So now I'm gonna be the healthiest I ever be. You're hearing it now. This is my declaration. I'm going to not "do better," but actually cut real things out of my diet. I'm going to be better.

So here's what's going out the door:
Coffee (I cried about this one, no more caramel macchiato)
Soft cheese
Most fishes
Too much sugary food/drinks

What that means for my choices: 
Vegetables (more and more greens, more and more fresh choices)
Fruits (more and more fresh, seasonal fruit. Less canned/packaged stuff) 
More high protein that is lean - chicken and beef
More non fat and low fat dairy
More and more and more water 
More nuts and dried fruits as snacks
Light popcorn with movies 
More grains and cereals and juices

It's really happening. I don't know what part of me flipped a switch the second half of this year but I've really been on a roll. Despite everything that's been going on around me, I feel together and I've been actually setting my mind to real goals again. Go me! 

I tried to do something similar to this diet change before, but I didn't have the motivation of feeling this awful behind the decision, in all honesty, a lot of these kinds of choices we make are made purely on the vanity of the choice or ourselves. But this time it's because I'm pregnant and I'm doing this for my baby. Also I really need to get back on my yoga routine. I can't wait to start tonight with more fruits, no late-night indulgences and then wake up at the right time and actually do yoga. 

November 22, 2016


I wonder about celebrity. That feeling of popularity, sinking into loneliness. Where you're always surrounded, but loved for shallow reasons. All the voices of admiration and affirmation drown out into white noise and you rarely hear them anymore, they can't comfort you the way the voices think they might. Every word you say is scrutinized and pulled out of context in a way that rarely happens in ordinary life. And then it's publicized.

Recently, I've seen some celebrities getting upset at their level of celebrity and wanting to just desperately take a break and do something real, something that matters. I can't say that I blame them. There is so much work that can be done when you have a loud enough voice, that spending it on the fragility of celebrity, a lush lifestyle, when you could help others seems silly. But it's not so easy to pull away when it isn't always your choice, either. You sign contracts, you have management, you'are a brand. I don't know... I feel like that lifestyle is much harder than people outside of it give it credit for. Audiences expect these celebrities to serve them, rather than to create, and they aren't too keen on the service ending before they're ready.

Imagine being in that position? Maybe I'm the only one who feels that way, but at any rate, it's worth giving celebrities a break from that life. Not that anyone will listen to me. 

November 18, 2016

Little Bundle of Joy

The day I found out I was pregnant, I never realized how much my life would change. I knew it would change in the future when baby arrives, obviously, but I didn't expect so much to change right now while pregnant. I sit here typing this feeling my little baby squirming in my belly. When I felt my baby move for the first time this week, it brought me more joy than I could ever imagine. Although it was nothing like it said it would be in any of the pregnancy books or on the websites. There were no poetic darting fish or fluttering butterfly wings for me, it was more of a strange kind of tiny tummy rumble. 

The first time I felt it I was in the bed, just about to take a nap, and I lay there with my hand on my bump and my mouth open in shock. But then it happened again, and I knew it wasn't just indigestion, it had to be the baby wriggling and wiggling about inside me. I kept feeling the same thing on and off during the week, and it's such a brilliant sensation. I had to stop myself from prodding my bump, just so I could feel it again. I love it, it's just like a little secret between me and my baby, and it's so reassuring not to have to wait to hear the heartbeat at my appointments to know everything's okay. 

It's amazing. My love for life, my husband and this new little being is beyond measurable. Pregnancy has been a learning experience. One filled with unique challenges and new discoveries. I've learned that every mother has their own experience and wealth of knowledge to share about being pregnant. I've also learned not to take too literally everything I read or what everyone says to me. I've created my own path and discovered what works for me. 

November 15, 2016

Flaws and Charms

I've been thinking a lot about how when you love someone, their flaws can become their charms. The strange, quirky, and even the most irritating things that they feel most self-conscious about, and what others, too, may find off-putting, can become exactly what you adore most.

I tend to talk too much and think too much and write too much. I hog the covers. I'm compulsively, unnecessarily early to any and every event. I have a fear of sleeping alone. I'm allergic to dust, I can't help but comment on every preview in movie theaters, and I'm so afraid of cockroach, I won't even watch Oggy and The Cockroaches.

I'm picky about certain vegetables, selfish about sharing my favorite foods, and stubborn when it comes to ordering anything but my go-to meal from familiar restaurants. I'm scared of driving and in theory, I love gardening, but in practice, I'd rather just lay out in the sun with a good book and a orange juice.

Ifo forgets to close wardrobe and put down the toilet seat. He trims his beard on my mirror desk and he lets his dirty clothes make a mountain on the floor. He gets lost in YouTube black holes, watching trailers or learning about weird addictions or the latest conspiracy theories. He can be easily distracted and also easily charmed, for better or for worse.

And despite, or perhaps because of all this, he loves me, and I love him, and our relationship feels stronger. Neither of us is perfect, to be sure, and every once in a while, we'll feel the need to point that out. If you asked us, though, we'd both admit to loving it all. To loving all of each other, even the worst parts, because we know those pieces and understand them and we're proud that we've learned to navigate those darker patches because that effort marks the difference between love and marriage.

November 3, 2016

The Middle Ground

There are 84 blog posts sitting in my drafts folder. There's one about a difficult day 4 years ago, another about having, for the 1st time ever, just one New Year's resolution instead of a laundry list. There's a post about a strange, sunny day on the bay, a post about an adventure with my friends, a post about something Ifo said that stopped me in my tracks, surprising me in a way, a good way, that words haven't surprised me in years.

Sometimes this happens. I have so many things to say that I don't know where to start, and I end up saying nothing at all. Do you ever have that dream? The one where you're trying to talk to someone, and although you hear the words in your mind, muffled, as if you're underwater, you can't speak?

Hard to imagine that? Forget it then. So this is a few pieces of the drafts I've been saving for a long time. 


It's been a good month. A really, really good month. The kind that's so good, you have to force yourself not to grow suspicious that something difficult must be around the corner. That feeling has been nagging at me, though, and there's nothing worse than that train of thought, the when-will-the-other-shoe-drop kind. It comes from a place of such fear and guilt, as if you have to pay for your happiness, as if joy will always be followed with some kind of inevitable sadness.

That's a defense mechanism, of course. When things feel like they're moving in the right direction, you can't help but brace yourself for whatever challenge will come up first.


I hear my dad's voice in my head a lot. On a revision night after getting bad grades in mathematics and he bought me a lot of practice books to improve my maths, he'd say, "Do it correctly!" He sometimes sounds like yelling, the kind that intimidated coach but motivated me, pushed me to work harder and work smarter. He's the best teacher.

I hear my mom's voice in my head, too, a much softer one. With 6 kids, she's the kind of mom who always carries not just a first-aid kit for medical emergencies, but a first-aid kit for, well, life. From her purse, I've seen my mother pull out everything from Vicks to biscuits, just in case. She's a big just-in-case type, and before I ever did anything (go to school, take a test, leave for a night out), she'd repeat, "Be prepared."

Do it correctly. 
Be prepared.

 So much of parenting boils down to readying your kids for what's next, and helping them learn how to ready themselves. My parents instilled in me a borderline-ridiculous affinity for planning, and it's one of the passed-down habits I'm most grateful I adopted. There's something to be said for training yourself to anticipate what's coming, and to be prepared for your next move. 

But here's where I've sometimes mixed up their message: You're not always anticipating a blow, sometimes you're preparing for something great. You can't know that, of course, but you can learn to understand that good can follow good. There are ups and then there are downs, but sometimes there are ups, and then more ups, and then the down isn't so far to fall, after all.


The words come quickly when things are really hard, and when things are really good. Maybe it's because the emotions feel more extreme, the thoughts more defined. It's the middle ground that's tough to sort through, I think. Even easy joy can be hard to navigate sometimes.

November 1, 2016

Playing the Part

Several years ago I sought the advice of a woman who was so very together. Quick-witted, sharp, successful, and gorgeous, she was hard-working and well-respected. Somehow, she was the sort of person who managed to work late, cook elaborate dinners, start book clubs, organize happy hours, try all the coolest workout classes, and, I don't know, probably save lives in her spare time. In any case, she was damn impressive. Meanwhile, I was 23, regularly eating cereal for dinner, and feeling not at all like an adult. I was an adult-in-training, and I wanted step-by-step, detailed instructions.

"How do you do it?" I asked her. "Seriously. What do your days look like?"

When she replied, I expected her to be overly humble or dismissive, but she wasn't. Instead, she laughed and shared her tricks. And that was part of it, I realized: She was awesome, she knew she was awesome, and even better, she knew it was okay to know she was awesome.

"I pretend to be the person I wish she was," she said. "I act like a better version of me."

I was confused. "But isn't that still just you being you?"

She nodded. "The lines blur." 

It basically starts as an act, she told me, like you're playing the part of your fantasy self. You dress the part, act the part, and before you know it, the habits are yours, and you're you, only better. 

That all sounded great, in an abstract sort of way, but I demanded specifics. What did she do?

Well, to start, she asked herself the same question, day after day, again and again: "Do I want to be the kind of person who [blank]?" And then came the second part, the harder part. She promised herself that 90% of the time, she'd let her answer to that question guide her. Almost every time, if the answer was yes, then she'd do it. And, of course, if it was no, then she wouldn't.

In other words, it was really, really simple, and also really, really hard.

I'd like to say that I quickly took her words to heart and shifted gears, but I didn't. Not completely, anyway. I did ask the question, though, and I learned a lot from my answers. I figured out, moment by moment, in a series of situations, what sort of person I wanted to be. And sometimes, on good days, I'd mostly be that person. Or, at least, more like that person. And that feels like enough.

Since then, I've watched her climb higher and higher, personally and professionally, toward her best self. And she's made me a believer in the fake-it-'til-you-make-it philosophy. I think it's okay, every once in a while, to let things change from the outside in. Sometimes, it's your best bet.

October 31, 2016

The Life you Keep Saying you Want

What's not to love about Elizabeth Gilbert? She's whip-smart and hilarious, sarcastic and self-deprecating in a way that's still self-loving. I adore her, admire everything about her. When I finished reading her book, I felt the same way I did after watching The Oprah Show: awestruck, energized, and ready to save the world or something.

Like most people, I first fell for her writing with Eat Pray Love, and her most recent book, Big Magic, has become a permanent fixture on my desk. She has said that Big Magic is her manifesto, and much of the weekend's workshop was shaped around the ideas her book lays out on creativity.

My notebook is full of scribbled phrases I jotted down as I read, but there was one line I didn't even need to write down. It stuck with me, and I honestly can't stop thinking about it.

"What are you willing to give up to have the life you keep saying you want?"

After Elizabeth asked the question, it sort of hung in the air, shifting the energy around me. She went on to explain the hardest part, that you don't just have to give up the things that are bad for you, or the things that are a waste of time. You have to give up some of the good things, too.

This is the part that really got me: the life you keep saying you want. It's so pointed, right? It forces you to compare the life you claim you want to the life you've actually created for yourself. What's different? What's not? How much are you willing to bend to make the two look more similar?

I'll leave you with that. Oh, and my favorite line from Big Magic, which is actually a line by Jack Gilbert, a poet: "We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure, but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world." 

Stubborn gladness. So perfect, right?

October 20, 2016

Those Days

You're six years old and lived next to your grandparents. Time was a smudged glass in a summer haze. You spent your days without shoes and watched your feet, praying callouses form on your heels. Your mother had a hard brush to rub hers away but you waited for the day when you'll be able to boast, "look how far I've walked. Look how many layers I carry."

Six was a small age. Six was sweet potato and tea in the evening. Six was cold ice cream tube from a rusty freezer. Six was polka-dot pants and pink cotton t-shirts. Six was leaning against your grandma's knees as she braided your long, wet hair. Six was a singing time.

The evening smelled like grill smoke and wet dew, burned wood chips and yards of flowers. People stood outside in their yards. Fine day. It was. The tree branches formed shade over the yards like a suburban rain forest, and sunlight slipped in rings onto the tall grass through the green leaves. You sat in your backyard, on the edge of the sandbox. If you're not careful, you'll get a splinter on the back of your thigh. You're always careful. You made a path in the grass from your house to your grandparents. Home was communal, a haven. You watched for smoke to rise over the brown roof of your grandparent's home. Tuesday, there was nothing. Wednesday, you waited. On Thursday, a puff of white settled into the air, a balloon rising with a halfheartedness like smoke from the hookah's the caterpillars in Alice in Wonderland smoke with a lazy ease.

Hookahs. Alice in Wonderland. You went to town with your grandma and picked out a coloring book with Alice in it. You carried it to grandma and presented it with a proud smile. "This is what I want." Later, you struggled through the pages, confused and unhappy by the incomplete color pencils in your stationery box.

That Thursday evening, you climbed the stone steps to the small backyard patio where your grandpa stood in front of the grill. He had on a white thin shirt and his hands were on his back as he watched the chicken on the grill. "Hi", you said. He gave you a look that means, I know what you're up to, and with the tongs, snipped a bit of the skin from one of the wings. "Be careful, it's hot," he said, and your fingers burnt when he handed you the piece of skin. It melted on your tongue, the fat sizzled and formed a fire in your belly.

He turned a chicken wing over and one drops into the embers. You knew what comes next. He picked the wing up with the tong, brushed the charcoal from the edge, and winked. "That's your grandma's." It came every time and you still laughed. It's tradition, in the smallest sense. He gave you another piece of skin before you walked on the cool stones making up the steps down from the deck. You ran barefoot back to your house.

Those good old days..

My grandparents died so many years ago, when I was in high school. And I dreamed about them recently. How I wish they were there on my wedding day. Well..I'm sure they're watching over me. I miss them so much. 

October 11, 2016

The Special Thing in my Mom I Hope to Pass Down

I've been thinking a lot about my parents lately...who they are, who they've made me. People talk a lot about the mistakes their parents made, all the cycles they hope to break. And my parents aren't perfect, of course, but what I'm really holding on to these days is everything they did right. They set the bar in so many ways, and I can only hope to love like them.

By the way...I think I can finally share the good news: I'm pregnant and my baby is due in April next year! If you've been wondering why it's been super quiet around these parts lately, well, now you know! I honestly just couldn't sit down to write about real life, so I've been focusing on my pregnancy and trying to wrap my mind around what's ahead. We're so, so excited, and I can't wait for this next chapter.

So when you're expecting your first child, the avalanche of parenting advice that rushes your way can be more than a little overwhelming. There are suggestions from friends, tips from family members, link after link of parenting stories online. And then, of course, there are all the pointers you pick up on your own.

More than anything, of course, as I try to imagine myself as a mother, I look to my mom. I remember the way she tucked me in when I was little, the music box that played, the final words she said each night: "I love you." I remember the notes she left in my lunchbox all the way through primary school, the times she saved the day by just being there. Again and again, I've replayed scenes where she was more selfless than I'm afraid I'll ever be and more empathetic than, at times, I may have deserved. I remember feeling safe, always.

She's not perfect, of course, nobody is, although she's a perfectionist. Sometimes she's way too perfectionist. Her punctuality makes her always in a rush, she's the queen of neatness, and sometimes she cares so deeply that I hesitate to share the tough things with her, afraid she'll panic for me. There's one thing, though, one quality of my mom's, that I'm vowing to pass on, and that's her relentless need to celebrate the little things.

Every time I got an A on an exam, the paper made its way onto our refrigerator for the week. Whenever I won first place in school debate, I got to pick what we had for dinner. On each birthday, mom ordered a cake and cooked so many foods and invited everyone to celebrate. There was the time she planned a surprise party for me...actually, many times. The woman loves surprises.

Sometimes I wonder where that heart of gold comes from. Maybe it's her roots, or from a life lived in, or maybe she took after the people who raised her. In any case, it's second nature to her, and the point is: she knows how to show love, and she does it. It's as simple and as difficult as that.

My mom and I are living apart now, since I'm married and currently living with my husband, but still she finds ways to celebrate the special moments. I come from a huge family. My parents have 6 kids and 12 grandchildren, and my mom's babysitting more often than not. Still, as big as the family has gotten, that's never diluted her love for any of us. There's always plenty to go around, and she makes sure we all feel it, not just on holidays or on birthdays or when the major milestones happen, but every day, in the smaller moments.

I hope I'll someday do the same. I'm definitely going to try.

October 4, 2016

A Birthday Wish at 26

I turned 26 yesterday and I've always loved birthdays though it's not really a big deal. But for me, birthdays tend to inspire a bit of reflection. Each year I look back at the year behind me, and I have to say, if 26 treats me half as well as 25, I'll be a lucky girl indeed. I thank Allah for everything I have, especially my husband and my family. They're the most precious gift I've ever had and I won't trade them for anything. My family threw a birthday party for me yesterday, my husband bought a lovely chocolate cake and we were all having steamboat and grill at lunch. It was so memorable and wonderful. 

Fast forward a year and everything's changed, everything but the people beside me. And that's really all that matters, isn't it? And there's always next year. In the wake of everything, I've also realized that there won't be a next year to change my life.

When you're young and in your 20s, that's the time when you should be taking big risks. When else could we bounce back from bottom as easily? But there's a difference between risking big and being reckless, and that's a distinction I've ignored for the longest time. I've always been reckless. I did too many things I'm not proud of having done before I was legally allowed to vote. I've always jumped first and hoped to develop my wings on the way down.

For as long as I can remember, I've been reckless with my own life, and put my own emotions second. I grew up quickly, and compartmentalized how I felt, because I thought it was more important to focus on how everyone else felt. On how I might make life easier for them. Seeing somebody else happy was more tangible, making their lives easier was easy for me. Everyone likes to feel useful, to feel helpful, to feel needed. But I would always put my need to feel needed at the top of the list, and ignore everything else I needed.

And that's not a way to live life.

Life is too short to waste your time doing anything less than what you love, and anything less than what makes you feel alive. Life is too short to stay comfortable, and to not take risks, and to not feel scared. Life is too short to be reckless with anyone's life or emotions, even your own. Life is too short to waste your time on anyone who makes you feel anything less than important. And not everyone has to make you feel as if you're important. they're not obligated to by any means, but for every person who doesn't, you'll find 5 more who will. And they're worth the effort. Your time on them will not be wasted. And your life will be more rewarding for knowing them.

And whether it's your birthday or you just wake up tomorrow and aim to fix what's not working about your life, I wish for you to remember that though it might be uncomfortable at first, that space where things become uncomfortable is where we grow and learn the most. And that space is rare and precious and few people ever make it there. And it's worth going there. It really, really is.

Happy birthday to me. 

September 29, 2016

What I've Learned from my Husband

Sometimes you need to make sunshine a priority. Sometimes you need to set up a spontaneous picnic with friends just to soak up the daylight and yes, the laundry (and the groceries, and the dishes, and all those tv series) can wait until tomorrow.

Patience can solve just about anything.

It's important to take time for the people you care about most. Even if it means stepping outside your comfort zone or rearranging your schedule, those moments are worth it. They make you whole.

Happy music can do wonders for your mood. So can YouTube.

Cooking really isn't that hard, so don't be afraid to try something new. Plus, if you do mess up, who cares? There's always cereal. (Or takeout)

Most of the time, your stress is your own doing. Relax and take care of it, one to-do at a time.

People deserve 2nd chances, and sometimes a 3rd, too. Trust yourself. You'll know in your heart when it's time to step away from a relationship and move on.

Nothing beats rainy day, hot fish noodles, and a good movie.

It's possible to wake up happy every single day. It's possible for cool, calm, and collected to be your version of autopilot on a daily basis. (He's like that. Seriously.)

Before you ask for help, try to do it on your own. You may just surprise yourself.

Silly faces and ridiculous dance are a crucial part of life. Let loose. Acting childish every once in a while is good for the spirit.

When you're good at your core, really, truly, honestly good, love comes easy.

Trust and empathy are important, but relationships are really built on the little things. Don't overlook the smaller moments, the tiny ways in which you relate and react to each other. Flirt, laugh, stay up late talking about anything and everything, and never forget to show how grateful you are.

July 28, 2016

The Vow

On 16th July 2016, I got married to a wonderful man, Ifo, whom I've dated for 8 years. It was the greatest thing that ever happened to me and I swear I can never forget the solemnization moment and when he read his wedding vows. There were also some unforgettable moments that make me smile every time I think about them:

1. Waking up to text messages from my long distance friends wishing a "Happy Wedding Day".

2. All the flower girls and bridesmaid eating cupcakes while getting ready.

3. Stepping into my giant white dress, all the girls around me.

4. The silence, and the sound of my dress rustling against the floor as I approached Ifo for our first look. And how he smiled at me.

5. Scanning the crowd and feeling, in the most surreal way, buoyed by our friends and family.

6. Again, the wedding vows, which was my cue to cry.

7.  My veil slipping off as we made our way to the feast, delirious with joy, and Ifo catching the veil as it fell. The most perfect imperfection.

8. The biggest, best hug fest in the entire world as everyone came to congratulate us.

9. Slipping away with Ifo to take pictures, and the look of sheer amazement on his face as he whispered, "Alhamdulillah, finally..."

10. Cutting the chocolate cake coated with mint green fondant specially made by my sister.

11. Everybody's having fun with karaoke and some others were waiting turn to sing.

12.  My adorable nieces and nephews twirling across the dance floor, giddy and tired.

13. Friends and family dishing out all kinds of emotional, slurred, perfect "we love yous".

14. Hanging out with Ifo under the canopy while eating leftovers after everybody's leaving, feeling tired, happy and thankful.

And so...I just want to thank you all for your best wishes and your really, really sweet comments as I shared all our wedding photos and details on instagram, facebook and twitter these past few weeks. Special thanks to our families and friends for their continuous support and help to make the wedding as wonderful as it can be. And also special credits for these people:

Wedding suit and dress: Permaisuri Pengantin Boutique
Dais and hand bouquet: Normah Wedding Planner
Cake: Dinasha Bakery
Canopy and table set: Kris Canopy
Caterer: Kharisma Catering
Photographer: Mr. Ajib

Thanks so much everyone!

Annddd...last but not least, here's my vow:

Dear Ifo,
My best friend,
My brightest light,
My husband from this day forward,
You're the greatest, most magnificent man I've ever known.
You've taught me peace and charity, strength and integrity,
the beautiful bliss of life's most simple joys.
You've shown me what it means to be good and true,
what it's like to wake up each day with faith and hope and a fearless, grateful spirit.
I love you for so many reasons, but I love you most for your heart,
Your true and kind and open, compassionate heart.
Our love has always felt both incredible and inevitable,a miracle that's meant to be,
And my most cherished blessing is to know that I'm yours.
Today, surrounded by the ones we love,
I vow to honor, inspire, and respect you for the rest of our days.
I'm yours, my love, forever and always:
All that I am now and all that I'll ever be.

Arrival of the groom

The start of forever

It's such an honor to be his wife

A kiss


"Can't take my eyes off you"

My best friends

His best friends

Our moms

I'm honestly loving my dress

July 3, 2016

Inching Toward Love

Sometimes someone seems to be not quite falling in love, but tiptoeing toward something like it. Like everything is just happening so slowly, you know? Well it's making me feel like maybe it's just not right.

There's something to be said for the kind of love that comes quickly, abruptly, a fierce jolt that makes you stumble, do a double take, then race forward. It's exciting when that happens, and scary, and something about the fear and the thrill and the haste makes it seem inevitable. Destined, even.

Occasionally, that swift love holds onto its momentum. I've seen (and felt) that desperate, whirlwind sort of love shape into something that's lasting and evolving, but I've also seen (and felt) it lose its footing, the head unable to keep up with the heart. Or something.

I inched my way into love. When I met him, sure, there was an immediate connection, something easy and comfortable about it. But my stomach didn't drop in fear, and I didn't fall so quickly that I tripped and staggered. I just inched in the direction of love, letting it come into view in the distance while I slowly but surely watched the walls between us come down.

Truth is, I'm a put-it-all-out-there kind of girl. And he isn't that kind of guy. Of course, when you first meet him, it feels instantly like you know him, like what you see is what you get. He's easygoing and kind and level-headed in the way that can feel wonderfully simple, relatable, but he also keeps so many things close to the chest. He's the type to intrigue you, to hold back a bit, to let pieces of himself unfold and come to light over time. In all the ways that I'm obvious and open and up and down, he's careful and steady and balanced. He's sure. He knows what to share and what to keep as his own, so that weeks and months and even years into knowing him, I still find that he surprises me.

I eased into love because he eased into himself, letting me in bit by bit. For me it was a lesson in patience, because while fast happiness may feel fated, that lasting joy is worth waiting for.

June 30, 2016

When Dust Settles

Endings keep popping up in conversation lately. Stories of leaving, of finishing. Stories of conclusion. I for one have never been good with endings. I'm a beginnings person, someone who revels in the delight of change and enjoys navigating new territory. Endings startle and stun me, stop me right in my tracks. I never know how to negotiate the aftermath because I'm afraid to see the dust settle.

Looking back, I haven't allowed for many endings. I've managed to steer most of my experiences and relationships so that they land on a forever timeline, or at least something close to it. Come to think of it, some of the most heartbreaking endings have been leaving certain places. I knew as I left those places that my time there was over and I struggled, wrestling with that knowledge and doing my best to pretend it wasn't so. Even now they're the places that tend to fill my daydreams, absence makes the heart grow fonder, etc.

This is all to say that it's hard to close the back cover. With books I find myself clutching the final flimsy pages and re-reading them over and over again, wishing I could stay in the world just a little bit longer. More often than not, I'd rather balance along the edges of an ending, unsteady, than see the conclusion rise up to meet me. Isn't that sort of how it goes, though?

Well, I'm leaving home soon.

June 28, 2016

Save the Date

Hey, everyone! Ahh what a long hiatus. It feels good to finally write again. Well, the big day is just around the corner and I am currently a very busy, nervous and excited woman. 

Planning our wedding has come down to a lot of little details and decisions; programs, linens, cards, tablecloth colors, doorgifts. And all these choices, sure, they felt important. After all, it's one of the most significant days of our lives, we're standing at the brink of forever, etc. But still, nothing has been quite so special as preparing myself to be a good wife.

I'm also writing my vows, though I'm not gonna read it out loud on the day, it just feels right to write it. I know it's not a part of our tradition. But there's just something kind of magical about writing that promise, about narrowing your big, sweeping, expanse of a love for that person into just a few short sentences.

All along people have been saying some version of the same thing: "It will hit you. At some point in this process, all the love and the forever and the weight of this day will hit you."

And wouldn't you know it, I've been hit, by the words, of course, always by the words. The surprising part, though, is that I didn't feel their weight. I felt their lightness.

Annndd here is save-the-date card for you. Everyone is invited!


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