Grateful.

I’ve spent a lot of post writing about my quarter life crisis, and yet as I sit here in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, I realize I have so many things to be grateful for. So many great things to reflect on and so so many life changing moments I’ve potentially minimized in lieu of focusing on the tough spots.

I am blessed. I have a job that has taught me so much about who I am and what I want out of life. I have a boss who has been extremely supportive of my varying life transitions. To the extent of helping me transition into a temporary role in pursuit of my passion while I figure out my next steps. I work with supportive people. Nope, we don’t agree on everything, nor do we all lead the same way, however- everyone I’ve been surrounded with has taught me a valid life lesson. Every. single. person I have met in my life has shaped my story. my becoming.

Or most recently defined as my unbecoming. All of my experiences have prepared me to let go of the need to know the next step. The next person I’ll meet. The next love of my life. I sit here and find that I am grateful for every heartbreak. Be it a death in my family (Nana, Aunt Alexis, Mama…) break ups (I’ll spare you the list 🙂 ) The heartaches have led to heart Greats. My Nana helped me learn the love of a parent. She raised my father so lovingly that I have THEE single best earthly father I could ask for. Free of imperfections? Absolutely not. My father is the single person in my life that encourages me to live authentically. Because my Nana breathed that spirit of God given truth into him…without losing her and watching my father’s grief, I would never understand unconditional parental love. I wouldn’t quite understand why my parents call me 10 times a day just to make sure I’m okay. Without losing my Nana, I wouldn’t have the same appreciation for seeing certain people’s name show up on my cell phone…you never know when it will be the last time.

For every trip. From Tanzania to Disneyland. I have traveled more than I ever truly acknowledged. For being a girl scout and having a mom–my very best friend–take the time to drag her petrified child out into the woods and teach my survival skills at such an impressionable age. My mom became my trip leader to help me learn the value of sticking things out. Even when it’s hard. When it’s scary. When there are giant daddy long-legs sleeping in the same space as you. My mom has taught me the value of trying something new. Of accepting that being emotional is apart of who I am. I am so grateful for parents who always and continually encourage me to be vulnerable to the pain of life. Only in the pain can you grow, Cierra.

I am so grateful for a big brother who pushes me. Yes he made fun of me as any older sibling should, and at the same time, he’s been the guiding light of this current difficult space in my life. My brother makes me think. He doesn’t function from feelings- he functions from logic. Reality? Everyone needs this person in their lives.

We all need our opposite. If you are a dreamer, I challenge you to find your logic counterpart. Same with logical folks–find that person that makes your heart leap for how uniquely they see the world.  My spouse will be that person. My brother reminds me of everything I need in life (not necessarily want); Trey is my person. He reminds me  that the combination of logic with a mix of dreamer gets you to your destiny.

I am grateful for my life. For the books my sister has suggested to me. For my nephew who’s taught me the value of forgiveness. For my cousins, aunts, and uncles. For music that easily stirs fond memories.

Flying out of Sioux Falls on a charter flight with a group of people that have collectively changed my life for good. I am grateful .

hydration.nutrition.fit.sound.

The Awkward Stage.

For most, this was Middle School. When all these strange things start happening to our bodies. When our older brother suddenly stopped using the bathroom with the door open. Or when you find yourself wondering why you thought it was ever appropriate to shower with one of your parents…or bathe with your best friends  #awkwardddd!  Middle school is that place in life where your friends changed. When you had to choose whether or not you were going to play sports or stick with the band. Cheer or play soccer. Run track to get your weight under control or eat Naples french fries with meat sauce every day (#plug to Steubenville- proudly from the valley).

Oh middle school. Home to braces, awkward bras that aren’t really holding anything up, bad hair cuts, broken heart, mean girls, cracking voices, hallway note passing, and growing awareness of whether or not your parents are buying you name brand clothes.

I was in Kmart clothes well through sophomore year. No shame in my game. I was pudgy and loud–bossy even. I was entitled and my daddy just so happened to be the middle school guidance counselor…. Hello teacher’s pet tendencies…. I loved school and it never quite occurred to me that I didn’t fit in. In middle school I had this strange confidence for an overweight short stalky kiddo. I didn’t go through middle school dealing with people making fun of me or not getting invited to someone’s sleepover. I was a successful crowd surfer. I did just enough so that everyone liked me (at least to my face to they did!)

It wasn’t till recently when I saw a middle school cheering picture of me that I thought OMG! WTH *EXPLICIT *EXPLICIT* followed by me questioning my parents on why they never checked me. Like quite literally, Why!? Why they didn’t tell me to put the DQ Blizzard down. Why didn’t they tell me that the school had to special order a cheer uniform for me that fit. Why didn’t they tell me that my friends’ parents complained to them about how bossy I was at times. Why didn’t they tell me not to make an AIM instant messenger name that announced to the world my crush!

(Garystubblover01…ugh… #shootmenow)

Their rationale? There was nothing wrong with me and they were in complete awe of my self-confidence. At 27 I look at that same cheer picture and think “Good God, child, where did you go?”  I realize that they same person still thrives, I mean I’m still a little bossy, I have braces, and recently cut my hair, which prompted this post. I looked at my hair and braces and frumpyness and thought– wow, I feel like I just re-entered the awkward stage. Only this time I’m feeling it. I’m feeling the looks and impressions of my changes–My decisions that for some, go totally against the “grain”.

I’m feeling the polite smiles with the undertones of what the hell is she doing. And I’m okay with it. Hell, if I was watching someones’ life unfold the way you all are experiencing mine, I’d be pretty intrigued myself! Why? Because I believe this is my true awkward stage. This is my space where I’m rediscovering that pudgy cheerleader who gave no f**ks. I’m rediscovering the confidence required to stand alone versus blend with the group. I’m owning awkward. I’m leaving crowd pleasing. Don’t get it twisted, it has it’s painful moments. Those moments of Okay, Cierra, really though? What ARE you doing? And as I allow myself to sit in those uncomfortable moments,  see that what I’m doing, is so in sync with my being exactly where I am suppose to be.

On the other side of awkward is self love. Watch the Neflix series LOVE and see how relevant modern TV scripts are reflecting on the 25-35 quarter life crisis/ awkward phase.  An appreciation for your quirks, your kinky fro, your thick thighs, your loud living (figuratively and perceptively) In the awkward moments I get to see who’s truly for me. Ride or Die baby. (shout out to my parents, rolling steady since the late 80s with this baby Holllaaa)

It’s easy to be the crowd surfer. The people pleaser. The “go with the flow-er”; no one gets hurt when you’re busy pleasing everyone else….. except you. 

So this is me. LOUDLY 🙂 owning my awkward phase, delayed, yes, maybe, but much needed and much desired. Embracing the end of one comfort zone, and boldly stepping into authenticity at its’ best and worse!

 

hydration.nutrition.fit.sound.

Sheep in a crowd of Wolves.

Pastor Greg talked about this today in church. That tough space where God pushes you from full surrender to walking in faith. Greg preached today about how sometimes, when coming into a relationship with Christ, we can’t or don’t want to understand the bottom falling out that comes with it.

It hit home. Perceptively, the bottom has been falling out from under me. I’ve been saying Yes to what feels like spiritual guidance, and with every yes, comes a new challenge. I said yes to living on my own again, and now I manage the re-occurring challenge of the thoughts between my ears, uninterrupted. I said Yes to an 18 month lease, and then about 2 weeks later I said Yes to walking away from my job.

In what world does that make sense? Why would God lead me to this comfy cozy home with rent and bills that I need to pay on my own, while simultaneously directing me towards a career change? Really, God? I said Yes, and now I wait.

I said Yes to re-joining weight watchers, a tool that was very helpful for me during my first attempt ever at gaining some health consciousness. I joined during Christmas time. and I have successfully GAINED 10 more lbs. WHY bother joining, Lord! Why say Yes to another expense to only continue to spiral out and binge eat.

I said Yes to re-joining my gym and working out with my trainer and gym friends again. Now I’m trying to figure out where that money is coming from? I said Yes.

I’m sitting in church today a little angry at first. Mainly because I wasn’t initially connected to the message. My psychy was all off and I couldn’t be present. I was in my own head, going through the “I go to church” motions, and sitting there in a chair thinking WTF God. What is with all of these painful, irrational, financially risky, emotionally draining, spiritually exhausting YESes!

I surrendered. I came to the cross. I came to the light. I entrenched myself with spiritual presence. I committed to living out God’s will. The universe’s design for my life. I said yes. And after I said yes, everything seemed to fall apart. Sound familiar?

In this space I’ve been in, I’ve been so vulnerably reaching for guidance. Seeking out my life mentors, family, friends, church family, God. Everything. Anything to help make sense of my current chaos.

The one consistent response was this. Life is hard. Anyone who truly wanted anything out their life, got it at high price. They went through some shit. They picked themselves up. They went through some more shit. They picked themselves back up. They lost everything. They cried, and picked themselves up. They did not allow the questions of the world. Of the humane. Of the earthly logic, to keep them in consistent state of self-pity.

God called me to church this morning so that I could be reminded that he’s called me to be a sheep in a world of wolves. He’s called me to believe in him and his plan for my life despite what I see in front of me. He’s placed me specifically in this funk so that He can show me who I am. So he can teach me to fight for Him, not for this world, but for Him.

I’m gaining a little grit. I can’t lost 60lbs without learning  and appreciate the stories of those who also battle weight and skeptical relationships with food. I wouldn’t have the same appreciation for my health goals without watching the scale increase and decrease based on the levels of stress in my life. Or without sharing my experiences at the gym who too have their own internal battles. I wouldn’t know the value of finding a new non-food outlet if I didn’t take the financial risk of re-joining my gym and working out again.

God hasn’t called me to be a one hit wonder. He’s called me to be a person the sheds light on his journey with me, not my destination. I keep waiting for the end. Not the end of my life, but the end of my struggle. In church today, I sadly and gratefully learned that the struggle is a part of coming to Christ. It’s a part of the testimony. It’s part of being willing to be vulnerable enough with your own life, to save someone elses.

I am okay. I am a sheep in a crowd of wolves. I am struggling, and yet I cannot wait to see how God continues to use me, shape me, create me, and restore me. Break me down to refuel me. Bend me so that I can see life outside of my current tunnel vision.

So I’ll continue to say Yes. and I’ll continue to go to Church. and I’ll continue to go Weight Watchers. and I’ll continue to go to group trainings. and I’ll continue to pray over my finances, my job search, and my self discovery.  I will continue believing in the unbelievable, and most importantly, I will continue to pick myself back up.

just keep swimming….<3

hydration.nutrition.fit.sound.