it's only because the events of this weekend are finally setting in that i'm finally able to write.

after an incredibly beautiful three days in NYC, i returned to l.a. with a new title, prompted by a simple question (which was met with a less simple answer), a magical ring and an entirely new trajectory for my life.

i may talk about wedding magazines and girlish dreams later because, after all, that's what us girls do after prince charming whisks us away on his noble steed and asks us to spend the rest of our lives with him. but the more i allow myself to think about what really happened that day ... the more i have come to realize that things do happen for a reason ... and all at the right time.

"do you know why i love this place so much?" i asked vince as we sat together on the grass enjoying our wine and snacks pre-proposal. "because every great city needs a great park. there's something about this place that rejuvenates your soul. i mean, the city can be so cruel. it'll eat you alive if you let it. but when you walk into this park, the sounds of the city fade and you seem to get lost in this little oasis. i love it! look at how happy everyone looks ..."

i watched with hopeful eyes as hundreds of people, scattered about this lawn, reconnected with nature. friends. lovers. family. throwing frisbees, reading novels and taking in good conversations and the warm sun.

i watched as we all become reconnected with our own humanity. right there on the plush green grass of central park.

in that space, hope actually set in so deep that perhaps this is the life we were created for, that vince's offer to prolong this feeling into an eternity together completely took my breath away. literally.

this will be the moment i will forever cherish where all of time seemed to stand still and heaven literally seemed so close to earth that i caught a glimpse of how things were meant to be.

and even now, as i type, i look at the ring on my finger that will forever signify the strength of love and the power of hope in a world that is dying to restore things back to the way they were meant to be.

it couldn't have been more perfect.

(thank you vince for bringing me hope, for being my love and, ultimately, for choosing me ... it's already the greatest honor of my life to be called your fiance.)

"picture a group of high school boys standing by their lockers when a girl walks by. one of the boys asks, "how do you rate that?" they then take turns assigning numerical values to the various parts of her anatomy, discussing in great detail how they evaluate her physical attributes. this scenerio happens all the time, all over the world, every day. it's a pastime for some. there are television shows and websites and endless discussions all devoted to deciding who's hot and who's not. it's an industry, a form of entertainment, a culture. and it's everywhere. the problem is that "that" is actually a "she." a person. a woman. with a name, a history, with feelings. it seems harmless until you're that girl - and then it hurts. it's degrading. it's violating. it does something to a person's soul." [rob bell :: sex God]

here's the deal guys. i would love to give you my sob story (which isn't really a sob story, but to be honest, isn't worth elaborating on right now). i would love to give you the exact scenarios that made me feel like a 'that.' but i think it's self-explanatory.

what i want to talk about is how i've interpreted something that was intended for good ... for joy ... and made it evil and repulsive. as a small disclaimer: i don't think the things that have happened in my life were the sole cause of this unfortunate situation. you can take one look at our world and see in great clarity that things are not as they were intended. so with that in mind, i can move forward.

it's easy for a she/he to become a that when we are grossly disconnected from each other. which brings me to a brilliant interpretation of sexuality that has created just enough space for me to begin seeing things differently.

"scholars believe that the word sex is related to the latin word secare, which means 'to sever, to amputate, or to disconnect from the whole.' this is where we get words like sect, section, dissect, bisect.our sexuality then, has two dimensions. first, our sexuality is our awareness of how profoundly we're severed and cut off and disconnected. second, our sexuality is all of the ways we go about trying to reconnect." [rob bell :: sex God]

this is the definition i'm working with. because it makes so much sense.

to me.

i've allowed the disconnection others feel (and consequently their need to devalue others) to create a giant rift in my soul. there has been so much discontent for so long that when i have a moment of connectivity (whether at a concert, at church, in a coffee shop with my friends, at a rally in the middle of the street), i feel overwhelmed. as if, for some reason, i've been missing out on something all along.

and i think this is where i get to my point. sexuality, for me, is not simply what happens between the sheets. it's merely a small percentage. "our sexuality is all of the ways we strive to reconnect with our world, with each other and with God."

up until this point, the way i have tried to connect with the world has been through the eyes of a 'that.' because, as i have learned ... lies quickly turn into gross generalizations and assumptions and how i act actually comes out of who i believe i am. and right now, i believe i am a she who longs for things to be as they were intended. which leads me not into the bedroom, but into a greater thirst for intimacy with the world in which i live, the people people around me and the God i have become so disconnected from.

ok. i think i'm finally at a point where i can talk about this sex thing without saying something i don't really mean. i do that a lot. and i usually own it because ... well ... it's embarrassing (and seemingly bipolar) to change your mind in mid argument when it's clear you were so passionate about the first stance.

i do this a lot through gross generalization when really ... i'm thinking of a specific incident on a given topic. topics that usually get me all fired up have to do with sex and the church. and sometimes one causes immediate negative feelings about the other, which is where i begin today.

when someone asks me (typically in disbelief) why i haven't had sex, my response used to be: "because i don't want to have sex before i'm married." which, in kansas, translates as, "oh. you're a christian." cool. we've reached an understanding without me having to awkwardly explain my position on such matters.

now, having been in l.a. for nearly three years, i have learned that my staple answer no longer suffices. people become intrigued by the 26-year-old virgin who has been with her boyfriend for more than a year and half who has never slept with him. they want explanations. not an essay, just a solid answer. and the whole, "i don't want to have sex before i'm married" thing begs the response of, "why?"

let me get this straight. the people who ask "why?" are not being rude. they're genuinely curious. because this whole not having sex thing when you're in a serious relationship doesn't make sense to them. because the natural context isn't, "oh, it's because you believe in a God who asks you to regard your body as a temple. who says that He created sex to be enjoyed in the context of marriage." and that's not their fault. and to be honest ... i'm glad they ask why. because it wasn't until about six months ago, that i realized i wasn't having sex because i'm a follower of Christ ...

i'm not having sex because:
a) sex has always been communicated/portrayed as something negative (both in the church and in my relationships with those around me)
b) having sex only quadruples my chance of getting pregnant (which, isn't exactly a priority of mine)

now, what concerns me most about these two responses is that it has nothing to do with God. that, sex, in my mind, has only one correlation with the God i claim to follow: judgment and condemnation for those who engage in intercourse before marriage. the act itself, in my mind, has not been considered an expression of something that has been found, rather something that is forbidden because of the long-term devastation it may bring you.

my goal is to get back to the truth on this manner as it exists in my life. rob bell once said, "what we do comes out of who we believe we are." i've chosen to abstain, not because i believe God has my best interests at hand, but because i was afraid of getting in trouble. i have chosen to not engage in sex for 26 years because i believed that this was the only way i could maintain power in past relationships. and i chose, most importantly, to abstain because the thought of having a child with most of the guys i dated was nauseating. not only because they were boys themselves, but because i actually believed i wouldn't make a good enough mother.

well, all that has changed. and now, i have begun to unravel the layers of sexuality that were intended to connect me intimately to the world around me ... because i have to believe that all this sex stuff has to do with much more than what happens between the sheets.

i'm on a plane from wichita back to l.a. all i can see are the never-ending squares of brown and green crops that make my home town look like a patchwork quilt from up here.

this most recent trip to kansas revealed the simplistic nature of a place i once found overwhelmingly complex. it's incredible how little effort it used to take to turn simplicity into my nemesis.

for the first time (perhaps ever) i allowed myself to admit that there is a part of me that craves the simplicity of the place i spent most of my life fighting. this part of me wishes (or more accurately LONGS) to have everyone i know so easily accessible. i would love to have the community i had and still have in wichita. it's comforting. it brings me joy. it's effortless. no traffic, no parking issues, no google maps to figure out the fastest or least congested route. just a quick drive across town or walk down the street and you're there. in their homes ... filled with family and friends to make it warm and cozy. the warmth doesn't end there. it makes its way onto the streets and into the hardware stores and restaurants. genuine smiles and hellos are exchanged without thought and i am overcome with a sense of security and belonging to this place i traded in for hardened face to ward off the begging and silence to to spare myself from uncomfortable conversations with strangers.

this time in kansas, i didn't get antsy. maybe i've finally come to grips with some of the baggage in a way that makes kansas safe again. or maybe i've committed (more than i thought i had) to the idea that there really is nothing left for me to prove anymore - or i was just to tired to do that this time around. i actually felt confident in my answer to the infamous question that family and friends tend to ask with each return visit, "so, what's next?" my answer ... "i'm not really sure."

and that's the truth.

i don't have a plan. i do know, after holding precious little emery oliver and meeting the more grown-up versions of my friend's once toddler children, that being a mother is something i'd like to pursue some day. it's a thought i've been entertaining in attempts to fill my future with something other than a blank slab and ambiguous undertones. but actually holding my best friend's baby made it more tangible. more real. and far less stifling than i had made it out to be. in fact, life made a little more sense with him in my arms, which led me to believe that perhaps some day ... this wouldn't be out of the question for my own life.

i know after having monday morning coffee with my old boss and co-workers that there is a way to do business that not only generates revenue but also brings out the best in people. i became reacquainted with work-ethic and midwest charm. from the receptionist who seemed so excited to see me to the shareholders who joked about l.a's influence on my decision to get a nose ring while offering my job back ... if that's, in fact, why i was there.

i leave this time with a deeper appreciation for my family and their hospitality. the exchange of laughter and tears reminded me that i am an adult now. which is both empowering and devastating at the same time.

i don't have a plan, but i know that plane rides, airports, conversations and kansas are all much more beautiful when vince is there. i found kansas to be a place i could return to with a new perspective because he represents the me that is becoming. i realized this trip that my life is wherever vince is. and that's something that i would never have admitted to if i had a plan ... or ... had simply followed the one i was so married to for so long.

i know that i was lucky to have been raised in a place that values community, family, hard work, ethics and space in which to enjoy the little things in life. in a place like kansas, time move just slow enough for longer conversations and an extra cup of coffee. it was in the obscure time warp three years ago that i was able to have enough conversations and enough coffee to prepare me for a life where everything moves too fast for the things i didn't even know i valued.

so. all that to say ... this all seemed like perfect timing. my life slowed down long enough to actually hear what my old life was saying all along. and that's a really beautiful thing. i move forward from here without a plan and oh so intentional in bringing a little bit of kansas to the big city!

"whatever we expect with confidence becomes our own self-fulfilling prophecy." brian tracy

i really wish this weren't true. because what this says is: whatever i actually believe about myself ... well ... becomes who i am. and that puts the responsibility back on me to change the way others see me and more importantly, how i see myself, in order to witness significant change occur in my life.

i can blame a lot of people, because let's face it .. people suck sometimes. but i'm the only one who can make me angry, so it's time to start being more real.

so why do i feel undeserving of being 'chosen' by someone?

a few different reasons i suppose. most of which involve stories centered around memories of how someone else treated me or what they may have said.

for instance, in middle school and high school, i always had a ton of in-school friends. the popular kids let me sit at their table (which gave me some hallway cred), the choir kids would hang out with me during competitions and the debate/forensics nerds would geek out with me on our weekend trips. life was good. so long as i was in school. but when i got home ... none of those people called me. i wasn't invited to parties. and i certainly wasn't asked to go to prom. come to think of it ... i asked (begged) both of my prom dates to come with me. oh, there was one out-of-state prom that i attended and someone from another school that asked me to come to his, but is that what a girl needs to do to get a date?! i had this one birthday party that a lot of people came to, but they all left at the same time to go to a much more high-profile gig while my handful of close friends stayed behind to help clean the mess the others had made.

i remember being invited to an annual birthday party of another girl i was 'friends' with a few years in a row. she had the biggest slumber parties ever. and i always found myself camping out in a closet or random bathroom with another girl with our oreos and cheetos, talking about how uncomfortable we felt because we clearly were the 'filler' girls.

the point is. i didn't entirely feel as if the people around me really wanted me there. if it were their choice ... they would have chosen an alternative. this was the case with my natural father, boyfriends that would come later and church groups that i would find myself leading, yet have no community to turn to when things got really bad. but those situations don't have to be my crutch forever.

in fact, it can't be. because that crutch is unreliable. and in the end, i will have alienated everyone in my life who have chosen me ... just because i'm me ... all because i expect them to be like the people who never cared to choose me to begin with.

i've decided that's not fair. i've also decided that, if i simply choose to believe in myself as much as those who have chosen me do ... i'll begin to expect, with confidence, greater things. perhaps, brian tracy was onto something ...

in one day.

i've spent the past week mulling over my thoughts and feelings regarding this topic of self-disclosure and proactively searching for a way to put some ink to this blank page of the new script i am hoping to write for myself. as with most projects, however, it's not coming along as quickly or easily as i had hoped.

it may be the fact that i can't just 'start over' so-to-speak. i have a history. and that history is a part of who i am. and while i'm learning that it doesn't define me, it's still important to sift through all the information and pick the parts that were meant to enhance my story, not keep it from being written. (which, as i've mentioned, has been a bit difficult to discern)

i was going to start the week off with an introduction of these four in-depth discussions: why kissing never leads to sex, why Bible verses still make me cringe: and other thoughts on faith, why i can't believe you and great expectations (i know, i know ... it's already a book title, but i had no other choice). sounds super intriguing right?

i thought so too. until i began explaining the sex topic to my good friend jen (mentioned in my last post) and she came back with, "do you feel chosen?"

uh. that sent me down so many roads, i can't even begin to map out where i was or how i got there. she was asking specifically if i felt chosen by vince in our relationship, and although i could answer honestly that i do, i couldn't figure out why a voice inside of my kept saying, "but i don't know why he would ..."

it was then that i realized these issues of sex, church, trust and lofty (or unnecessary) expectations are primarily centered around the idea that i have yet to learn to love myself. that, through all of the memories that have made these topics so sensitive in my life, the underlying theme is that i believe i am not worth being chosen. and, to be honest, i have actually created a person to project as myself that i thought would be much more desirable. super exhausting to think about ... i know ... so we'll save that for another day.

the second bird, killed by miss korey oskins (great friend, counselor and communicator extraordinaire) was: "do you think i would be disappointed in you if you didn't do the things you have always told me about?"

for some reason, i honestly thought she would be. and now that i think of it, that's not reasonable at all. she was so sincere when she asked the question and even more so when she responded to my silence with, "i wouldn't. i'd be inspired by anything you do that would make you happy."

with that, i've decided that my four issues will still be discussed in great detail. but i'm hoping to reclaim the pieces of each issue that brings me joy (or was meant to bring joy) ... and place them onto my blank page, leaving behind what was only intended for destruction and sadness. i think this is the way i want to lay the foundation of my new story ... with truth, redemption and joy ...

i think it needs to be reiterated that these posts are a way for me to process how i have lived my life, based on how i once interpreted events from long ago.

the reason i have chosen to blog about them on the world wide web is to begin a process of healing that will hopefully come from dialog with others who have experienced similar fates or simply wish to feel the freedom of admitting that the stories we intentionally or unintentionally have written for ourselves is not the one that was intended for our lives. it is also my way of 'getting this all on paper' so-to-speak. it makes my life somehow ... more real. and the pain that still lingers as i allow myself to expose the feelings associated with these memories causes me to believe that this whole 'series' may be just the medicine i need to feel human again.

because, truth be told, i learned how to shut down much earlier than necessary. what occurred in the living rooms of both my parent's and grandparent's home convinced me i had reason and complete permission to become hardened in order to protect myself from ever feeling that way again. once i had written that protection clause into my script ... there was no chance for anyone who entered my life from that point on. and can i tell you a secret? i’ve found that i feel much lighter having documented these memories in the past two entries. It’s almost as if writing them down gave me the freedom i needed to be able to let go of them … to walk away from them without feeling like i’d forget them if i didn’t have such a tight grip on them. maybe i’ve always known that they were my excuse for acting the way i have for so long. only time will tell i suppose.

my friend jen wallace called me the night i posted the last entry and (in her matter-of-fact and straight-to-the-point voice) said, "so, i have a thought for you about your blog today."

when jen starts a conversation like that ... you have no choice but to listen. well, at least if you're me. because that's the way we roll. ;)

i digress ... she continues: "see. this is what happens when you continue telling yourself a story. you begin 'already listening.' anything people do or say, regardless of their intention, becomes proof of what you already believe about yourself. or about them. it's not [always] their fault. you MADE them fall into your script. not on purpose, of course, but it's your story. it's sad. back then, you didn't know you were writing a story."

it's going to take me longer than this week to accept what she said. there is more truth to what she said than I really know what to do with and i'm not sure i'm quite ready to deal with the responsibility of owning the truth that this is MY story. that it is no longer ok (if i am to be a healthy, mature adult) to blame others for the pain in my life. and i would have posted this yesterday, but it’s really hard to write a blog entry about ‘processing life’ when you are still trying to figure out how to do it yourself! so, i thought adding an excerpt from a book i read recently would at least set a foundation for how i’ve chosen (at this point in my journey) to sift through the messiness in order to better understand myself and move towards truly forgiving those who are a part of this script of mine.

crucial conversations :: kerry patterson, joseph granny, ron mcmillan and al switzler

… just after we observe what others do and just before we feel some emotion about it, we tell ourselves a story. that is, we add meaning to the action we observed. to the simple behavior we add motive … although this complicates things a bit, it also gives us hope. since we and only we are telling the story, we can take back control of our own emotions by telling a different story.

stories explain what’s going on. they are interpretations of the facts. they help explain what we see and hear. they’re theories we use to explain why, how and what. … once they’re told, they stories control us. they control how we feel and how we act. but it doesn’t have to be this way. we can tell different stories and break the loop. in fact, until we tell different stories, we cannot break the loop.

so this is it. this is where i make a conscious effort to rewrite my story. but first … i have to uncover the story that has already been written … which is where you find me today …