I am, by nature, a very caring person. Just ask my friends. If someone has troubles, no matter who they are, I am more than willing to provide a hug, an encouraging note, a baked good, some advice, or a listening ear. I've comforted girls I barely knew with problems I barely understood--I've held them in my arms as they cried for whatever reason, and given them words of encouragement. When I saw the devastation in Haiti on TV, the suffering I saw rendered me unable to speak for several minutes. For some hours later, I only spoke when I had to. I'd give more examples, but I think you get the picture. My heart aches when I see someone hurting, and I feel this need to help them in whatever I can.
I've been thinking recently how I got to be this way. Was I born like this? Is it normal for another's harships to affect a person so? I know I've always been a sensitive person, but I believe it took specific events for me to reach this particular point. We are born with specific personality traits, yes, but it takes the events in our lives to bring them out and to shape them.
When I lived in Thomasville (from the ages of 7 to 13), I was friends with a girl who was a year younger than me. Our friendship was complicated. When I first met her she made me cry, having made some slurs about my former home in Athens, Georgia. But I am forgiving by nature (even more so when I was younger), and soon we became friends. She was fun to be around when she wanted to, but sometimes without warning or provocation she would lose her temper and lash out. She could be very cruel to others, to a degree I had never seen before in my young life. But since the one incident when I was first getting to know her, she had never struck out at me. She even defended me to others who gave me a hard time--which few people have ever done for me.
I just couldn't wrap my mind around how someone could lose their temper so easily, over absolutely nothing. There was one time when we were roller skating when she suddenly started screaming at the people around her, and no one could figure out exactly why. But I was one of her only friends, and I took that role seriously.
It wasn't until I was 12 or 13, after coming home from a vacation, that the truth finally came out. My friend, who in truth I barely knew and barely understood, had been raped by her step-father again and again from the time she was very small. When I found out, I wept. I also felt guilty, although that had been happening long before I knew her. I felt that I should have noticed the signs. I'd stayed the night at her house on more than one occasion, and I had seen how she and her stepfather interacted, and yet I never thought anything was wrong. Those feelings of guilt--and disgust that I had ever let that man touch me--still haunt me.
That event shook me. Suddenly, the world wasn't so good anymore. My eyes were opened, I suppose, to other's sufferings. It awakened in me a need to help and comfort those in pain. The world is full of people who, like my friend, are in need but are too afraid or ashamed to reach out for help. I want to be there for them.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
My Soulmate
Soulmate: Noun. A person with whom one has a strong affinity.
According to wikipedia.com, "A soulmate is somebody with whom one has a feeling of deep and natural affinity, love, intimacy, sexuality, spirituality, and/or compatibility. A related concept is that of the twin flame or twin soul – which is thought to be the ultimate soulmate, the one and only other half of one's soul, for which all souls are driven to find and join. However, not everyone who uses these terms intends them to carry such mystical connotations."
When most people think of a soulmate, they think of the one person in the world that they're destined to meet and marry and live happily ever after with. That's not what I think of. Sure I believe you can fall in love with someone and have a wonderful life together, but I don't believe that there's someone out there that you're just "fated" to be with.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those people who doesn't even believe in soulmates at all. I do believe in them. I know I have one; one who can be described as my "other half." I was born with her. Am I unusual in my believe that God made twins, triplets, quadruplets, etc. to be each other's soulmates? Their completers?
I get asked "What's it like to be a twin?" a lot, and usually I don't know what to say. I usually reply "I don't know...what's it like NOT to be a twin?" or "It's hard to say, since I've been one all my life." But when I really stopped to think about it, I realized that being a twin is such an amazing gift. So here I'll try to convey what it's like.
Being a twin means I've never been alone for a single second in my entire life. And I mean that in a good way! My sister has always been someone I can count on. She'll always love me, and she'll always be here for me, and I for her. Not everyone has that assurance in life--to always have someone who cares about them.
I adore my sister. She's so many things that I am not, but that I strive to be. She's strong, hard working, brave, beautiful, soft-spoken, and so many other things. People have said that if my personality traits were merged with hers, we'd make one perfect person. It was that thinking that led me to believe that we're soulmates.
I normally don't care what people think about me, but Bekah is the one person I must please. If she disapproves of something that I do (which is rare), I feel like a little something inside of me dies. But whenever she compliments me or says anything positive to me, the joy I feel is indescribable. She's always very supportive of me, and I try to be the same way to her.
People also ask if Bekah and I have a special bond, and I would have to say yes. No, I can't read her mind telepathically, but our relationship is truly special. People can tell just by looking at us how close we are, and many find it intimidating. We're almost always holding hands, and it's not unusual for me to have an arm around her or vice versa. It's nothing weird, it's just the most natural thing in the world.
I never want to be parted from my sister. I don't even mind the thought of being single for my whole life, just as long as I can always be with her. I honestly don't know how I'd survive without her. She is my best friend, my soulmate, my sister, my entire world. And I thank God for her every day.
According to wikipedia.com, "A soulmate is somebody with whom one has a feeling of deep and natural affinity, love, intimacy, sexuality, spirituality, and/or compatibility. A related concept is that of the twin flame or twin soul – which is thought to be the ultimate soulmate, the one and only other half of one's soul, for which all souls are driven to find and join. However, not everyone who uses these terms intends them to carry such mystical connotations."
When most people think of a soulmate, they think of the one person in the world that they're destined to meet and marry and live happily ever after with. That's not what I think of. Sure I believe you can fall in love with someone and have a wonderful life together, but I don't believe that there's someone out there that you're just "fated" to be with.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those people who doesn't even believe in soulmates at all. I do believe in them. I know I have one; one who can be described as my "other half." I was born with her. Am I unusual in my believe that God made twins, triplets, quadruplets, etc. to be each other's soulmates? Their completers?
I get asked "What's it like to be a twin?" a lot, and usually I don't know what to say. I usually reply "I don't know...what's it like NOT to be a twin?" or "It's hard to say, since I've been one all my life." But when I really stopped to think about it, I realized that being a twin is such an amazing gift. So here I'll try to convey what it's like.
Being a twin means I've never been alone for a single second in my entire life. And I mean that in a good way! My sister has always been someone I can count on. She'll always love me, and she'll always be here for me, and I for her. Not everyone has that assurance in life--to always have someone who cares about them.
I adore my sister. She's so many things that I am not, but that I strive to be. She's strong, hard working, brave, beautiful, soft-spoken, and so many other things. People have said that if my personality traits were merged with hers, we'd make one perfect person. It was that thinking that led me to believe that we're soulmates.
I normally don't care what people think about me, but Bekah is the one person I must please. If she disapproves of something that I do (which is rare), I feel like a little something inside of me dies. But whenever she compliments me or says anything positive to me, the joy I feel is indescribable. She's always very supportive of me, and I try to be the same way to her.
People also ask if Bekah and I have a special bond, and I would have to say yes. No, I can't read her mind telepathically, but our relationship is truly special. People can tell just by looking at us how close we are, and many find it intimidating. We're almost always holding hands, and it's not unusual for me to have an arm around her or vice versa. It's nothing weird, it's just the most natural thing in the world.
I never want to be parted from my sister. I don't even mind the thought of being single for my whole life, just as long as I can always be with her. I honestly don't know how I'd survive without her. She is my best friend, my soulmate, my sister, my entire world. And I thank God for her every day.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
I Never Know What to Title These Things
It’s been a while since I last updated my blog, so I thought I’d just let y’all know what I’ve been up to, and maybe put in some random musings. I love this font, by the way. It’s called “Georgia,” so it reminds me of home. Whatever it takes, I suppose.
I’ve been rather busy lately, what with harp and piano practice, school, college English, trying to exercise (shocking, I know), and babysitting once or twice (sometimes more) a week. I’ve also found out new things about myself, and have tried out different ways of thinking.
For example, I recently realized my tendency to doubt my memory—I’ve always done this, but lately it’s becoming more of a problem. I do a school assignment, but an hour or so later I suddenly wonder “Did I really do my homework, or did I just think I did?” and I have to go back and make sure. It sounds funny, but it could get dangerous. The other day I took some ibuprofen (I always take three or four at a time), and ten minutes later I wasn’t sure if I had really taken any or not, so I had to ask my brother. I was fortunate that he remembered, otherwise I would have taken a few more. My dad assures me that when I doubt myself, there’s a 99% chance that I actually did what I’m wondering if I did, but the anxiety is still there.
As for trying out new ways of thinking, I’ve lately started thinking about why people do the things they do. Instead of just thinking “That jerk!” when the guy drove buy me while I was walking home and yelled an obscene suggestion at me, I started thinking about what would influence a person to do that. Instead of losing my temper or getting offended, I rationalized that he was just a pathetic little man trying to feel macho. Maybe I should have gotten offended, but if I got mad every time a guy said or did something inappropriate towards me I’d be almost perpetually angry. Not really a way I want to live my life.
Music has been my escape from the stress of day to day living. Music is almost a separate entity to me, living inside of me, continually swirling and dancing and singing. Playing an instrument is my way of releasing that passion—I often lose myself in the music. So much so that I don’t even notice the phone ringing, or even completely lose track of time. Simply listening to music (usually classical—my favorites are Beethoven and Tchaikovsky) has been known to move me to tears.
I’ve been missing my home a lot lately. I always miss it, but I go through stages where sometimes I miss it more and sometimes I miss it a bit less. I miss everything about it. The cotton fields, Southern voices and mannerisms, the smell of the Flowers bakery, the old-fashioned feel of downtown Thomasville, everything. I miss it so much that I’ve had several dreams about going back home in the past month alone.
On a positive note, being a babysitter is a real joy—even if I don’t earn much money from it. There’s just so much one can learn from being with small children on a regular basis. Not the least of which are patience and endurance! You haven’t known stress until you are looking after two crabby toddlers, both alternating between crankiness and extreme clinginess. I never knew small children could get so loud, or be so heavy.
The perks outweigh the pitfalls, though, at least for me. Just a couple weeks ago, the four year old girl didn’t want to eat her snack, so she instigated a chase—we ran all over the house, and every time I caught her I got to tickle her mercilessly and she had to eat a bit of her snack. The week before that I got to sing the one year old to sleep. You haven’t experienced life until you’ve had a small child fall asleep in your arms. I also love the way the one year old wraps her arms around my knees when I ask her for a hug, and the way the four year old thinks she’s scaring me when she randomly yells “BOO!”
All that to say, all y’all who think that all little kids are little terrors all the time, y’all are wrong. On the flip side, all y’all who think that little kids are so adorable 24/7 are wrong too. Just felt like throwing that out there.
And, finally…I’m fixin’ to turn 18 next month! We’re going to the beach to celebrate! Though I figure might should blog about that another time. This is probably the longest post I’ve ever written!
I’ve been rather busy lately, what with harp and piano practice, school, college English, trying to exercise (shocking, I know), and babysitting once or twice (sometimes more) a week. I’ve also found out new things about myself, and have tried out different ways of thinking.
For example, I recently realized my tendency to doubt my memory—I’ve always done this, but lately it’s becoming more of a problem. I do a school assignment, but an hour or so later I suddenly wonder “Did I really do my homework, or did I just think I did?” and I have to go back and make sure. It sounds funny, but it could get dangerous. The other day I took some ibuprofen (I always take three or four at a time), and ten minutes later I wasn’t sure if I had really taken any or not, so I had to ask my brother. I was fortunate that he remembered, otherwise I would have taken a few more. My dad assures me that when I doubt myself, there’s a 99% chance that I actually did what I’m wondering if I did, but the anxiety is still there.
As for trying out new ways of thinking, I’ve lately started thinking about why people do the things they do. Instead of just thinking “That jerk!” when the guy drove buy me while I was walking home and yelled an obscene suggestion at me, I started thinking about what would influence a person to do that. Instead of losing my temper or getting offended, I rationalized that he was just a pathetic little man trying to feel macho. Maybe I should have gotten offended, but if I got mad every time a guy said or did something inappropriate towards me I’d be almost perpetually angry. Not really a way I want to live my life.
Music has been my escape from the stress of day to day living. Music is almost a separate entity to me, living inside of me, continually swirling and dancing and singing. Playing an instrument is my way of releasing that passion—I often lose myself in the music. So much so that I don’t even notice the phone ringing, or even completely lose track of time. Simply listening to music (usually classical—my favorites are Beethoven and Tchaikovsky) has been known to move me to tears.
I’ve been missing my home a lot lately. I always miss it, but I go through stages where sometimes I miss it more and sometimes I miss it a bit less. I miss everything about it. The cotton fields, Southern voices and mannerisms, the smell of the Flowers bakery, the old-fashioned feel of downtown Thomasville, everything. I miss it so much that I’ve had several dreams about going back home in the past month alone.
On a positive note, being a babysitter is a real joy—even if I don’t earn much money from it. There’s just so much one can learn from being with small children on a regular basis. Not the least of which are patience and endurance! You haven’t known stress until you are looking after two crabby toddlers, both alternating between crankiness and extreme clinginess. I never knew small children could get so loud, or be so heavy.
The perks outweigh the pitfalls, though, at least for me. Just a couple weeks ago, the four year old girl didn’t want to eat her snack, so she instigated a chase—we ran all over the house, and every time I caught her I got to tickle her mercilessly and she had to eat a bit of her snack. The week before that I got to sing the one year old to sleep. You haven’t experienced life until you’ve had a small child fall asleep in your arms. I also love the way the one year old wraps her arms around my knees when I ask her for a hug, and the way the four year old thinks she’s scaring me when she randomly yells “BOO!”
All that to say, all y’all who think that all little kids are little terrors all the time, y’all are wrong. On the flip side, all y’all who think that little kids are so adorable 24/7 are wrong too. Just felt like throwing that out there.
And, finally…I’m fixin’ to turn 18 next month! We’re going to the beach to celebrate! Though I figure might should blog about that another time. This is probably the longest post I’ve ever written!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)