I found Happiness

The other day the Pilot plucked an eyelash off my cheek, holding it out so that I could make a wish and blow it away. A silly notion, to wish upon a piece of eyelash. Eyelashes fall all the time, what makes it special? And yet, I went in for the wish. But then, I hesitated.

My go-to wish for birthday candles, shooting stars, and eyelashes had, for most of my adult life, been for happiness. Eyes squeezed tight, fists balled, thinking with all my might, I wish I could be happy again. I was finished with depressed, unwilling to be simply content. I wanted euphoria. I wanted to wake up every morning excited about the day ahead. I wanted to go to sleep with a smile on my face. I did not want to have to push myself through each moment of each day. And so, I wished for happiness.

I sat on the couch staring at the lash on his calloused finger. My wish on the tip of my brain. But another thought floated in. Why wish for something you already have? I was surrounded by happiness. I was sitting across from my love who was patiently waiting for me to relieve him of the eyelash. Sitting cozy in the apartment of a dear friend who after only a few short weeks knew all my hopes and dreams, laughing with a girl who just a few hours earlier had begged me to never leave Texas. I was drinking wine, telling stories and giggling. Staring at that simple eyelash I realized how happy I had become.

In high school I had moments of fleeting happiness. Mostly it was dramatic and heartbreaking filled with backstabbing and fair weather friends.

In college I was miserable from start to finish.

Then I found London. I was in a constant state of euphoria. I made amazing,lasting friends. I didn't think it was possible to ever be happier.

When I moved to Copenhagen I immediately realized I didn't fit. The leftover high of London quickly wore off as I struggled to make friends and find my niche. I gave up. I went home.

At home I took a look at the past five years. I had picked up and moved seven times. Seven times. It thrilled me yet terrified me. Why couldn't I stay put? Would I ever be able to settle down for a moment?

Three months ago I moved to Austin. It was a whim, a fancy, a "hey, I have nothing better to do and I hate the cold, so why not?!" 

My mother was cautious and nervous but supportive. "Just, please don't meet a Texas boy and never come back. Promise you'll come back!"

B3 warned me of the difficulties of starting over in a new city , wary of me venturing off on my own without a plan. "It will be exciting and terrifying and hard as hell and you'll want to give up. Don't give up."

Everyone simultaneously applauded my bravery and begged me not to go.

I prayed about it. I was slowly arriving to the point where I would give up on traveling around. I began to yearn for a permanent place. A home all my own. Friends who would last longer than a few months. I wanted solid relationships and the comfort of a city I knew like the back of my hand. I never settled long enough to discover secret hideaways and hole in the wall perfections.

I prayed that I would find my place. I prayed that if Austin wasn't my place I would find out soon, before I left, so I wouldn't have to continue moving all over the country, just searching for happiness.

I prayed for happiness and strength to get me through the difficult times; strength to keep myself from doubting my abilities. The first couple months (and still, yes, still) I prayed for the right kind of friendships, I prayed for friends who would make me a better person. I prayed for holy and beautiful friendships.

Now here I am. Three months in, absolutely in love with everything. In love with Austin, in love with my incredible group of friends, and head over heels in love with the Pilot. I am in awe of my own happiness, in awe of God’s blessings, in awe of life. I haven’t been able to write a single word lately because I am finding it impossible to put into words my elation and thanksgiving. I want to scream from the mountaintops (if Austin had mountains…) about how beautiful my life is. Sometimes I feel a little embarrassed, but I’m not sorry I’m happy! I’ve been waiting for this day. Searching for this day. Searching for the moment where my heart could rest, could let out a sigh of relief and just bask.

I’m so happy it almost hurts.

I squeezed my eyes shut, balled my fists and instead of wishing simply said thank you as I blew the lash to where wishes go.

I am from...

I am from green, rolling hills and dipping valleys, from plastic kites on top of breezy knolls.

I am from the maple trees and dripping sap, from the tangy scent of fresh cut grass.

I am from the dandelion speckled fields, from the red clover and daisies. I am from the wildflowers.

I am from Sunday lunches after church and summers on the stage, from painted faces and lullabies by the fire.

I am from the glacial gap and a million stars. I am from the fireflies and s’mores. I am from old red barns and hiding in the hay loft. I am from burning red foliage and jumping in piles of leaves.

I am from love and laughter and plump figures. I am from “you can do anything” and “reach past the stars.” I am from a gaggle of brothers and superman figurines. I am from forts in the woods, a house in a silo. I am from the land of make believe.

I am from a church of love and forgiveness. I am from a cross around your neck and above your bed. I am from multi-colored rosary beads and a mother blessing her children with holy water. I am from a deep faith that sometimes falters but never falls away.  

I am from a farmhouse and a picket fence, from welcoming arms and helpful hands. I am from dirt roads and swimming holes, from iced tea and chocolate chip cookies at 3 pm.

I am from strawberry rhubarb pies and corn mazes, from sorrel lining the hiking path. I am from hay bale hide and go seek.

I am from hot chocolate and racing toboggans. I am from the best sledding hill in town. I am from snowmen villages and snowball fights. I am from frost bitten toes and red cheeks.

I am from home videos and boxes of pictures that document thirty years. I am from a slideshow on a white wall. I am from mistakes made and lessons learned. I am from memories that will last a lifetime.

I am from laughing into the night and pancakes in the morning. I am from a cup of tea and a good book. I am from cuddles and friendly wrestling.

I am from Irish eyes, romantic hearts, and knocked knees. I am from adventure. 

"The Evil" has subsided. It hasn't stopped, but it has calmed. It's on the back burner, simmering. It's enough to ignore. Enough that I have stopped crying at the very thought. Tears no longer stain my pillows each night. And so, to a point, we feel we may have grown stronger. We know it isn't over. We know we're far from being "in the clear." But we are out of the storm cloud. And now we wait. We wait to see if everything is ok or if everything is completely ruined.
I could break down. I could go mad. I cried to my mother that I wish I was there and that everything could be fixed. She told me to breath, to keep on living the beautiful life I've been given and to be thankful that I wasn't around. So I did what she said. I tried to forget and I rallied on.
And now, I am home. Not for moral support, not to try and  carry the burden. I am home to celebrate a life. To celebrate a new, beautiful, little girl as she enters the church. We are all here. Every brother and sister and wife. And although this has nothing to do with "the evil" and we have all agreed not to talk about "the evil," that this would be a "happy weekend," we all experienced a sense of relief as we gathered around our dinner table. We are all here. We all love each other incredibly. "The evil" had become so big, so horrid that we thought it would ruin our entire family, end our livelihood. And like anything that threatens a family's life, it brought us together. We say more "I love you"s and hug a bit tighter. It warms our heart and gives us comfort to know we are here for each other. We support each other. We will fight for each other. And no matter what falls apart, this family isn't going anywhere.

Leave of absence

Some terrible things have happened to my family recently that will be taking up all my extra time. I will be taking a leave of absence, the duration is undetermined.
If I could, I ask for your prayers and understanding and hope to see you all here when I return.

Dear Sister,

My Sweet Bear,

I’ve been having difficulty starting this. How can I presume to have knowledge enough to advise you? But as your sister, as your sponsor, as one who loves you so incredibly much, I want to try.

Sometimes I cannot believe you are sixteen. It thrills me and terrifies me at the same time. I am thrilled to see the woman you are becoming – you are beautiful, smart, a leader. Every day I amazed at your poise, your demeanor, your ability to carry on with a smile despite your illness.

But I am terrified. Terrified of what the world may have in store for you. I am scared because I remember when I was sixteen. I remember the trials, obstacles and heartbreak. High school was full of pressure and temptation. I made mistakes and had many regrets. IF I could spare you from these mistakes and just provide you with the lessons I would. But you may not make the same mistakes. No, you won’t. You are smarter than that. You have seen what it did to me. Unfortunately, you will make your own mistakes. You will cry. You will hurt. But you will learn.

Of course there will be millions of wonderful experiences as well. You will discover new things, you will live new experience, and you will find love.

You will find love in true friendships, love in a boy who makes your belly erupt with butterflies. Love in a mother who is always there no matter what you do, who seems to understand your deepest fears, your deepest desires; love in a your father who you will begin to understand as you grow older, who at the perfect moment will show his love and support though he may falter in his understanding of the vast emotions you are experiencing. Love in your brothers who will always strive to protect you, who will always support you but expect you to try your hardest and do your best. Love in your sisters who have been there from the beginning, who no matter how much you change, will always be the same. They – we – will be the constants in your life.

Most important, you will find the love of God. It is the most complex, most difficult love to understand and occasionally, to accept. But it is the most rewarding love, the most fulfilling. This love fills you, guides you, comforts you. This love makes you; it makes all the other loves in your life. All of these loves carry you through the difficult times, the wonderful times, even the plain-old, nothing special times.

Remember that love.

So, my pretty little sister, what advice can I give you?

1.       Always be yourself. Do not be embarrassed by who you are. Do not change to please others – you will regret it later and it will cause lasting damage. This is not uncommon, especially as you near college. So hold on to yourself. Love who you are. (I do!)

2.       Do not give in to pressure. This may be the most difficult piece of advice to follow because you may not notice the pressure. It could come in the form of friends talking, your friends beginning to change, beginning to have new experiences. You may feel left out, you may feel embarrassed for not joining them. But again, be true to who you are. Hold out. I promise you, looking back you’ll never think you were old enough.

3.       Take advantage of opportunities. Travel, be spontaneous, love. Take chances.

4.       Volunteer – give back, immerse yourself in a life you have never experienced and make it better.

5.       Do not worry about what others expect you. Do not worry about following the social norm.

6.       Make sure you are happy. Do not settle with simply content.

7.       Live life completely. Laugh often. Sing and dance every day, even if it is just in the kitchen.

8.       Work hard, commit to your dreams and fulfill them.

9.       Exercise. Seriously, it’s good for the body and the soul.

10.   No matter what – this is so important that I am saying it again – know that God loves you. He does. He needs you and you need him. Catholicism may be difficult at times, you may doubt, you may fall away. But you must never turn away from God. Without him life is empty. I have turned away and this is a lesson I do not want you to have to experience to learn from. It was the most difficult, empty time in my life. You need God, Bear. His miracles are always surrounding us. His love showers us. Love him.

There is my little bit of knowledge. It’s not nearly enough but it is all I have. Together we will learn more. You are a beautiful person Bear, you have a beautiful soul, and I am so blessed to be your sister. I love you a ridiculous amount.

With faith and love,

Annie

Dear Crush,

Dear Pilot,

I am trying to put into words how I feel about you. When I say your name my stomach somersaults. When someone from home asks if I’ve met anyone here I immediately think of you and smile. Before I realized it I was planning my activities around you. Where you would be I would go. I will go. I find myself looking forward to each time I will see you and thinking of new opportunities for us to interact.

When asked what it was about you that I liked all I could say was you were flying high above the bar I had set. And that bar is pretty high. I like you because you make me want to be the best version of me possible. I like you because you have a southern drawl that makes me melt. I like you because when something goes wrong you go right to work trying to figure out how to fix it. I like you because you are kind, you have a great sense of humor, you can entertain an entire room with your thrilling stories. I like you because you sing at church without opening the hymnal. I like you because you make sly comments under your breath that make me giggle. But most of all, I like you because the first time I heard your voice I looked up at you and haven’t been able to look away since.

Sometimes when I allow myself to think too far ahead and let my imagination run wild I think perhaps you are the reason for Texas. You were the draw, the reason why God helped me to make my way down here without a plan. You are why every prayer was answered and nothing got in my way. I was meant to meet you, you were meant to meet me.

But that thought terrifies me. Because, what if it is not true? What if I have fallen head over heels in this short time and to you I’m just a girl. What if I flirt too much or too little? What if I scare you away? What if I’m not ready to meet the man who I’m meant to be with? What if the life I lived before doesn’t fit with the life you live now? What if I’m not meant for you but I’ve built you up so much no one will ever live up to you? What if I’m never more than that girl from Vermont to you?

Pilot, I want to be more than that girl. I want to be The Girl. The One. I want you to take me flying in the sunset. I want you to call me when you’ve had a good day and text me when you think of something funny. I want you to think of me when you need a happy thought. I want you to get butterflies when you hear my voice. I want your face to light up when you see me. I want to be the girl you take home to your parents, the girl you introduce to your childhood friends. I want to be the girl you take to Italy, the girl you want next to you on all your adventures.

How have you done this to me? To the girl who put up walls. The girl who goes on two dates and gets bored. How have you made such an impression on me that I have thrown out all of my tried and true ways to catch a man’s attention? Instead I’m nervous. I’m quieter than usual. I tiptoe. I want to build a friendship and mutual respect. I want to take this slowly and not mess anything up. Yet I’m impatient. I want you to call me now.  I want you to ask me out now. I want you to fall for me as I’ve fallen for you right now. Why do you have this affect on me? What will make it stop?

Yours, head over heels and completely confused, forever,

Annie

Annie, The Doppelganger

Have you ever seen How I Met Your Mother? It’s one of my favorite shows and recently I’ve gotten Madic into watching. Every once in awhile I sit on our floor with him and catch a few episodes on the computer. The latest one we watched was Doppelgangers. In the last scene Ted tells Robin that eventually we all become our own doppelganger; we are completely different people who just happen to look like us. Ted makes a comparison of their characters five years earlier. Maybe it was the sangria thinking, or maybe it was the nostalgia from an earlier conversation with my mother, but I started to think about how I was my own doppelganger.

Five years ago I had just graduated from high school. I was dating a boy I was convinced was the love of my life and just months from an engagement. I had decided to defer my college acceptance for a year to work a little and travel to the Dominican Republic to volunteer. I had my life completely planned out in front of me. Although I cannot remember my exact plans, I know they never involved me moving to Austin with Madic, signing a one year lease on an apartment we couldn’t afford to furnish. But here I am; sitting on the floor of an empty living room drinking gifted sangria and watching How I Met Your Mother with my best friend.

A number of things have changed since July 2006. The Boy and I went through a tumultuous breakup the likes I could have never imagined. I never finished college. I lived in London and Denmark. I fell in love with a frat boy from Maryland and then chose my own life path instead of following him. I moved back in with my parents. I picked up and moved to Texas without any plan, without any job… just following a dream.

Ted tells Robin that five years ago she was great, but her “doppelganger”, the Robin of now, was the greatest friend and most amazing person he’d ever met. How do I feel about my doppelganger? I am overflowing with pride. Sure, my life hasn’t turned out anything like I planned when I was eighteen. Of course I wanted to get a degree. Of course I had dreamed of marrying The Boy and starting a family. But I am so proud of where I am now. I’ve taken chances, I’ve gone on adventure after adventure, I have lived. And I’m nowhere close to being finished.

Maybe I’m a little nervous and occasionally frustrated about my job hunt and not really knowing anyone other than Madic. Maybe every once in awhile I question my decision and miss home, my family, my friends. But I love this city. I’m excited about my job prospects. I have been blessed in finding an amazing community of young, Catholic professionals. I am meeting new friends every day. I have also grown a considerable amount in the last five years. I am stronger, more independent, more mature, more grounded. I have had my heart broken, I’ve made compromises and mistakes, I’ve had regrets. But I have learned from it all.

This doppelganger, this version of Annie five years later, she is the girl – the woman – I’ve always wanted to be. I just had to grow up to figure it out. And you know what? I’m excited to find out who Annie will be five years from now, but I will not be at all surprised if she is nothing like me.