i dreamed your dream for you

The past few weeks have been good and also difficult. Most weeks are just that. I would like to say I know exactly what to do to make every week good and not so difficult, but I'm aware that right now, in this moment, the weeks will continue to be good and also difficult.

I'm stretched so thin these days. There are many times when I think I just can't do all this anymore. And there are times when I stop doing much of it - when I give into the exhaustion and the frustrations and I allow myself to stop working quite so hard. But then I can't stay that way, so I go back to early morning work-outs of squeezing a 30-minute work-out in between jobs.

I have yet to figure out the balancing act. Or the act of eating healthy. It's so hard to say no to a juicy cheeseburger than costs $3.50 at a local diner and say yes to a $8 salad that looks nowhere near as appetizing. And usually I say yes to the cheeseburger and no to the salad - even when I've spent the entire morning (and the night before) preparing myself for the task of ordering a salad.

I've spent a lot of time focusing on the things I haven't done. A lot of time trying to understand what my relationship with food really is and why it is that I go back to the foods that are not good for me. I've also spent a lot of time focusing on just how busy I am and realizing how important my diet is right now when I don't have the time or the energy to spend two hours in the gym every day.

And I am spending a lot of time focusing on where I am in life. On what I am doing every day and the impact it is having. Because every day I am surrounded by need. The need of medical care, the need of parents who care, the need of attention and of structure, the need of an understanding ear, the need of help even when you don't want to ask for help.

Seeing that need all around me is exhausting. It tugs on my heartstrings and makes me wish that I could do more and be more. When something happens and I feel like I didn't do this or that right, it impacts my entire day and then usually the day after that. So I do what only I can and I pray for some sort of guidance. Because I am human and I fail daily. I fail myself and my fight for health. I fail the children I work with. I just fail.

Even with the failure, there is success. There are moments, like last night, where I cuddle a sick child at 10:00pm and press a wet washcloth against their forehead that I am overcome with a sense of purpose. where I am reminded that it is okay to fail because there is always the next day. There are moments when I dance like a crazy person in the middle of the living room with children who don't speak fluent English and for that moment it doesn't matter that I hardly remember how to count to ten in Spanish or how to say the colors. Because the children's laughter and smiles overcomes any boundaries that exist.

And it is because of those moments that I am reminded to continue to fight for myself. It is those moments that allow me the grace to forgive myself for my failures in weight loss and healthy living. Because I remember that I need to be healthy so that I can be there for those late nights of dancing and pressing a washcloth to the forehead of a child sick with fever.

I still don't know how to do it, though. How do I say no to the easy drive-thru meal and instead make something healthy to eat when I spend the free 30 minutes I have at the gym or stuck in traffic. And when I am spending the money to eat out, why is it so hard to spend a few extra dollars on the salad instead of getting a crispy chicken sandwich or cheeseburger?

If I ever get the answers to those questions, I'll pass on the information. Because it is something I will need to hold onto. I need to be forever reminded of how to do this whole living healthy thing.

I never feel great after I eat french fries with my chicken sandwich instead of a side salad. And I always say that next time I will get a salad. But then that next time comes around and again I order french fries instead of the salad.

With each passing week, I feel like I am closer to understanding and closer to a breakthrough. But it is a process and I need to allow that process to happen so that when that breakthrough happens, it will stick and not just fade in a matter of days.

And I need to continue on with where I am. Serving the needs of the people I work with. Recognizing that God has placed me in these positions for a reason. Remembering that one day I won't always have to work so hard. Being thankful for the blessings that are coming from these opportunities - like spending a weekend in the Plano/Frisco area with one of my best friends and like upcoming trips and plans with my husband. And also having the chance to make that difference in a child's life.

(title from "romeo and juliet" by edwin mccain)

there's a place for us

For a writer, I don't have the best memory. It's not that I don't remember things. I do - I just remember snapshots rather than complete scenes. I remember the feeling of a moment, the gist of inspirational words, but the exact words escape me.

I think that's why I've always loved fiction and how easy it is to get lost in the world created by the author. Often times it's a mix of reality and fantasy. And even though things don't always go according to plan, there's a light with every misstep and the understanding that everything will work out in the end.

Not every story has a happy ending, but there is always an ending.

Life isn't like that. Life doesn't just end; it continues to breathe and grow - even after the person living the life is gone. Each choice a person makes has a consequence. Those consequences come to the person who made the choice as well as to other people.

If the woman didn't choose to place the baby up for adoption, then the couple wouldn't have adopted the baby. If the couple hadn't adopted the baby, the baby may never have learned how to read at 5. And if the baby hadn't learned how to read at 5, then the baby may never have grown up to be a writer.

And if the writer didn't tell the story of how boy met girl, there would be no inspiring words to curl up with on a rainy day. No funny words to laugh over while stretched out on the beach with a drink in hand. No sentence to dissect in the midst of a sophomore English class. No novel to write a five-page paper over in college.

The story, even though it has a definite ending, continues on because of the author's choice to write the story.

I've always been drawn to fiction because it gives me hope. I've always felt better suited for writing fiction because I didn't have to remember. I could grasp onto the moments in my life and enjoy the murkiness of those memories without having to squint and force the details to come into focus. And I've always loved fiction because I could hide my own realities behind it.

Then I made the choice to start a blog, and suddenly there is no hiding any realities. It is all about showcasing the good and the bad along with the somewhere in between.

Writing a blog is stretching me. It's causing me to look at the world more carefully. I'm taking in the edges and the details along with the whole picture. I'm going back to those little moments and dissecting them, trying to understand why I felt the way I did and what the air felt like and who was present.

There are certain moments that stand out. One was on a bridge. I was in junior high. The church I grew up in was at Conclaves. It was the end of the weekend. Split into our small groups, we wrote notes to one another. Notes of affirmation. Notes that could be pulled out years later and hopefully serve as the beacon of hope through whatever darkness we might be facing in that moment. I don't know the exact words that were written, though I am sure they are hidden somewhere in my bedroom at my parents house, but I remember how they made me feel. I felt inspired and good enough and loved. Three things that are sometimes difficult for a teenage girl to feel no matter how much she hears those things.

The other day I started putting together a bucket list. One of the items on the bucket list was to become an inspiration. While looking at the list earlier today, I found a comment from a friend of mine that read you can mark done on this one too...you have always been an inspiration to me.


Those words took me back to that bridge. And to other moments. Times when people poured into me and told me words of affirmation. Times when I heard that something I said or wrote - something I did - made a difference in someone else's life.

In those other moments, I would take the words, believe them for a moment, and then release them. But this time I held onto the words and thought about them. I considered what they meant. And I wondered what it was about me that made me feel like I shouldn't or couldn't believe the words.

I started wondering about what it is about all of us that makes us all feel that we aren't good enough. I started wondering about what it would be like if we started to see ourselves the way other people saw us.

How different my life would be if I saw myself as an inspiration. How different my life would be if I considered myself a writer. How different my life would be if I saw my dreams as realities and not impossibilities.

I don't have it all figured out (clearly). I'm stumbling and fumbling along in my weight loss journey. Rather than writing a novel, I think about the characters and the plot. And so maybe I'm not the one to spark a revolution for the whole world, but I am the one to spark a revolution for my own life.

So I am going to do the thing I've never been able to do. I'm going to take the words of affirmation, years worth of words of affirmation, and I am going to believe them. I am going to remember how it felt the first time I heard the words. I am going to concentrate on the details and allow them to seep into future memories. I am going to allow the words I once hid away to effect the rest of my life and maybe make their way into someone else's life.

I am going to be the person so many people already see me as.

(title from "romeo & juliet" by edwin mccain)

done looking for the critics (week 3)

Before I spent a week recovering from strep throat, my work-out schedule was relatively consistent. I averaged 10 hours of exercise a week and spent many days squeezing in two work-outs. I prefer waking up early and getting at least one work-out done. A morning spent on the elliptical and lifting weights also guarantees that I fit strength training into my schedule and helps to determine how the rest of the day will go.

I had hopes of early morning work-outs this week, but a combination of cooler weather, cuddly dogs, and a body that needed rest made those hopes just hopes and not reality.

In the past, I spent Thursday nights at the gym combining cardio, circuit training, and core muscle training. It's one of the nights I take time and go to the gym. While I don't enjoy the great number of other patrons, I love being able to exercise without worrying about time constraints.

I stepped into the gym on Thursday after work. I was a little worried about completing my first second work-out of the day since spending an entire week on the couch, but I pushed past the worry and stepped into the gym.

I'm finding that I love the elliptical. I hope to one day be able to pound out miles on the treadmill, but as it stands now, my knees are a bit too wobbly and sore to do that. So I choose the elliptical. And everytime I climb onto the elliptical, I do it with the intention of finishing three miles. I did just that on Thursday and finished in 40 minutes.

The television was turned to the Travel Channel, and I kept my eyes on two episodes of Man vs. Food while I completed intervals on the elliptical. Some people might enjoy the show. For me, personally, it saddened me. And it caused me to look inward at the relationship I have and used to have with food.

If you aren't familiar with the show, Adam Richman takes on different challenges throughout the show. While I watched, he consumed nine sushi rolls as quickly as possible, attempted to eat five pounds worth of chilli dogs and fries in 20 minutes, and also ate pancakes that were big enough to feed at least ten people. There were other items eaten, but those were the ones that stuck out the most to me.

I kept wondering why. Why would you force yourself to eat so much food in a time constraint? Why would people watch him and cheer for him? Why is there a show like this? Why eat food when you don't really get to enjoy it? I also wondered what. What happened to make someone want to eat so much food and so quickly?

I turned those questions on myself as I huffed and puffed through the three miles. I thought back to all the food I used to eat. I never devoured five pounds worth of chilli dogs and fries, but I used to get every meal from a fast food restaurant. I don't consume nine sushi rolls, but I've been known to finish three all on my own.

My reasons were simple: I didn't love myself. During that time, I didn't see it that way. I saw myself as being busy and stressed and having no other choice. But I always had a choice. I just chose not to take care of myself, not to put myself first, and not the love myself the way I deserved.

The further I travel on this journey the more I love myself. I'm at a point where I now look into the mirror and appreciate what I see. I notice the changes. I might not be at the end of the journey, but I am well on my way.

In the past, I would have looked in the mirror and shrugged. I wore clothes that were nice enough and tried to look presentable. But I never really cared. I figured I was as good as I was going to get. I figured there was nothing else I could do. Trying to improve my health would be too hard. There were too many obstacles. It wasn't worth trying.. I wasn't worth trying.

My body image was not good. My image of myself was not good. I took all the negative things I had ever heard from other people, all the things I wasn't that the media said I should be, and everything I thought of myself, and I listened to it.

Starting this journey, I began the process of shedding all those negative things. I began the process of looking in the mirror and not shrugging. I started to care. And I started to love myself.

Thursday was the first time I looked into the mirror and truly saw the changes. I've noticed them before, but I've always pointed out the flaws and the items that aren't improving. I've always focused on the things that aren't good enough. But when I saw myself in the mirror Thursday, I felt acceptance.

The journey to health begins with a choice. No one else can make a person start to lose weight other than the person who needs to lose weight. After that first choice, every single day is a choice. And I choose to not be a critic of myself.

The more I love myself the easier this journey becomes. There are still temptations. But it's easier to say no. Because no now means I can say yes to other things later. There will be days when I look in the mirror and shrug, but the more I love myself the fewer those days will occur.

Life is short. But it's beautiful. We as people are beautiful too - no matter what the world says. But it is up to us as individuals to love ourselves enough and live out that beauty.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

done looking for the critics (week 2)

Every so often, in the midst of the busyness and the feelings of being not good enough, there is clarity. It might just be for one moment. Or it may be for several moments. And when it happens, when the clouds part and the fog disappears, it is impossible not to notice.

I've had moments of clarity before. Moments of truthful words being spoken. Moments of realizing and grasping how important life is as well as how God is working through all things and using all things to tell a story with my life.

Those moments do not last forever. Eventually the clarity disappears, and we are once again in murky waters. That's why it is so important to write the moments down. To remember the details. Because then we can return to those moments, through our memories, and realize once again that God is working through all things.

For months, I prayed for friendships. College brought close friends, but graduation and marriage and people moving across the country separated us all physically. There were so many times when I felt lonely. Comfort wasn't really an option though my husband did everything he could to bring me whatever comfort he could find. I got to a point where I decided I was not going to have close friends. Where I decided that it would just be me.

I don't remember the last time I prayed for close friendships. But this week I got hit with the realization of answered prayers in the form of friendships. And I understood what our pastor so often talks about. I felt like I was a part of a community, and I've felt lighter and happier and more content and more at peace than I have in months.

Nothing has really changed. Those friendships have been there for quite some time. But I refused to open myself up to them for a lengthy period of time. I pushed away. I built up my walls higher and higher. Sometime between pushing and building, those walls came crumbling down. And for the first time, I don't miss them.

This week I've learned and thought a lot about balance. I took advice and rested more than usual. And in just five days, I've lost over three pounds according to the scale. As excited as I am about the loss on the scale, I am much more excited about the peace I feel. I thought I needed weight loss, but really I needed perspective gained and a moment of clarity.

With this moment of clarity, there is still a question. And that question is where do I go from here? The answer is I am still not sure.

I used to think that there needed to be an answer for every question. I felt like I needed to have it all figured out. Often times, I still feel like I need to have it figured out because it seems like everyone else has it all figured out.

This moment of clarity showed me that no one has it all figured out. That's why we need each other. We learn from one another. Everyone is blessed with a talent and with knowledge. And that talent and knowledge is meant to be shared with other people.

Every person on this earth is born with a purpose. I strongly believe that. Life, then, is the time we spend on earth finding our purpose. Some people's purposes seem bigger than others. But there is no such thing as a bigger purpose than another person. Because we are all important and loved and created.

I struggle with this. I want my purpose to be big and in shining lights. I want to see the impact I have on other lives. And I spend too much time wanting those things and too little time seeing what my life is right now.

That's my goal for this next week. I want balance. And to be present in my current life. I want my purpose to be whatever it is supposed to be. And I want to help others find their purpose.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

done looking for the critics (week 1)

I've been considering this blog a lot recently. I've thought about what I want it to say. Not just in words but in a feeling. I've thought about what I want from it as the creator and writer, as the person living this day to day life. I've also thought about what I want it to be for everyone who stumbles across it and for those who follow it whether through blogger, facebook, or twitter. I've also thought about what I want it to reflect.

There's not one category I can place this blog into. It's about everything. My journey to lose 100 pounds and also my faith. There's been some talk of my writing also. And sometimes I mention my marriage and how we met and fell in love.

I want to continue to share all of these aspects. I want to tell my stories even if no one else reads or identifies with them because they are my stories. And any story that belongs to you deserves to be told. I want to continue with honesty because I think everyone needs to know they are never alone, and I firmly believe the world needs more honesty and vulnerability because that is how we, as people, connect.

And I want this to be a place of inspiration. For myself and for you. SometimesToo often, I struggle with finding the good in any and all situation. Because it is always there. Even if it is buried under a lot of other things, it is there. I know that because I know God is good and that He is always present. But I know it is hard to find in the midst of sickness and in money worries and in everything else that plagues us on this eart.

I think it's especially hard to find the good in the midst of losing weight and gaining health. Because so much of this is dependent on the scale and what the scale says in a number as well as what the scale says about us as people.

I often remind myself and friends that the scale does not dictate who I am or who they are. But I have a hard time remembering that in those moments when I step on and see that the number has not dropped at all. I struggle with that when I try on a size smaller of clothes expecting it to fit only to find that my butt is still too big to squeeze into it. Sometime I struggle with it when I hug my husband and realize again that he is leaner
than I am and wonder if I can ever be as healthy and fit as I want to be.

If I focus only on the scale and on clothes for approval and reminders that I am doing well, I will fail. Because the scale and clothes do not dictate how healthy I am or how I feel. They don't dictate hor healthy you are either. They can be tools if used properly, but they are not the end all and be all of health.

So what is?

For me, it's how hard I am pushing myself. It's seeing how far I have come from just 6 months ago. It's realizing that I can do more than I ever have. It's focusing on those things. It's also letting go of all my old behaviors and tapping into new ones. It's learning (and sticking to) what works for me in the way of a healthy lifestyle.

I want to document those things. Hopefully on a weekly basis. This will be the first week. I don't know what it will look like on a week-to-week basis. It might just be a picture dump. Or maybe a recipe. I might even do a pinterest dump. But whatever it is, it will be honest and it will reflect both what I am learning and struggling with as well as my successes and any failures I might have had.

This week has been up and down. I struggled with cold and allergies. I got not-so-great news from the doctor. As rough as parts of it were, I persevered. I never gave up; I just tried harder.

I focused on what I ate and read the ingredients list. I tracked every single calorie and ounce of water I drank. I started to cut out processed foods and plan what I would eat before arriving at restaurants.

Between Monday and Friday, I burned over 3300 calories in 6 hours and 17 minutes. I spent more time with my heart rate about 136 than I ever have before.

I was told that both my fitness and max performance were improving on more than one occassion which makes me more excited to hit the gym.

I'm proud of myself for where I am. I feel more committed to my health and wellness. I feel like I can push myself more and more each day. I'm no longer even the tiniest bit afraid of failing. Instead, I am excited.

I celebrated six-months of this journey on Wednesday. And it was hard. I was hard on myself. I felt like a failure for having only lost 25 pounds and felt like I should have been at the 50 pound mark by then. I no longer feel this way because I know that I have gained so much in the past 6 months, and what I have gained definitely outweighs the need to lose 50 pounds in six months versus 25 pounds in six months.

The next six month will have their own set of challenges. But I'm not worried because I am going to focus on each day and each week, and eventually it will work out in such a way that I can look back at the next six months and see nothing but success.

Here's to this week and to next week. Here's to not focusing on just the scale but seeing health for what is - an everything in life matters just as equally journey.

I wish every overweight person could step into the body of a fit person for one week, maybe just one day. I think it would be the catalyst for a new resolve. If you could "feel" the end, you would stay the course. Abby Rike, "Working It Out"

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

i'm right here

Wednesday was my six-month anniversary.

Six months ago, after months of feeling sick and being in constant pain, I learned my liver enzymes were slightly elevated and that I had non-alcoholic fatty liver disease. It wasn't the answer I expected, and other than diet, there was no other information given to me about why my enzymes were elevated. The doctor didn't really know why, and there was no real way of finding out other than having a biopsy. Instead, he decided I should come in once every six months.

So I went back to the doctor on Wednesday.

I was ready. I had lost 25 pounds in six months. The number wasn't as high as I wanted. But I was excited to step onto the scale in the doctor's office and then talk with him about how I had lost 25 pounds.

My first experience with this doctor wasn't the best, but Wednesday made up for the first experience. He told me I was doing great - that I was losing the weight the best way possible. He reminded me that it was better to lose the weight slowly - by diet and exercise - because I was much more likely to keep it off.

I left the doctor's office excited about my weight loss and with a bruised right elbow due to having blood drawn for another test on my liver enzymes. Both the doctor and I expected the levels to be lower. In fact, he even said we would test the enzymes just to see how much they had gone down, and he said he would then have his office call me with the results.

Six hours later, I got the call. My liver enzymes were higher now than they had been six months ago. The doctor wasn't concerned. I wasn't being prescribed any medication. But I felt the weight settle onto me.

I had a choice. I could give into the feelings that nothing I was doing enough. I could give into the thought that counting calories, sweating at the gym, and not eating fast food was no longer worth it. I could see this journey in two ways: the lack of weight lost on the scale and the liver enzymes being elevated. Or I could show everyone wrong and remind my body that no matter what it threw at me I was going to beat this thing and be healthy.

I took about 15 minutes to be upset. And angry. Frustrated. Sad. Worried. And confused. Then, I chose to show everyone wrong and remind my body that I was in control.

I had started the day off with a 30-minute work out on the stationary bicycle and burned 233 calories before even stepping foot into the doctor's office. When I stepped back into the gym that afternoon, I was determined to burn at least 600 calories.

Ninety minutes later, I walked out of the gym having burned 857 calories. Not only that, I walked out of the gym with a new outlook. As much as I loved that I burned 1090 calories for the day, I loved the outlook even more.

When I work out, I need to have music that pushes me and inspires me. Some days I listen to nothing but *N Sync and music by *N Sync members. Other days, I listen to a mix of Britney Spears and Pink. Today, I listened to what used to be my circuit training playlist. Fifteen minutes into my 40 minute elliptical work out, an old song came on. A song that not too many people know called Girl From The Gutter by Kina.

As the words came through my earbuds, I increased my speed and focused my attention on the wall in front of me. Memories of people who had hurt me, things people had said, things I had told myself I could never do rushed through my head. I pushed myself faster and moved my hips and my arms even more. When the song ended, I hit the back button and started it over again.

I still have work to do. I think I will always have some work to do. But I know that I have less work to do now than I did last week.

I'm letting go of the things that have held me back. The fears I have. The worries that sometimes consume me. The reasons I've eaten too much at some points in my life and too little at other times. The excuses I have made and the things I have said I could never do.

Because I can do this. I can lose this weight and keep it off. I can make good choices and correct the damage that has been done to my body. And I will do all of it.

Every day is a choice. A choice on what to eat and how much to eat. A choice to go to the gym and how hard to push myself. A choice to drink water and how much of it to drink. A choice to put myself and my journey first.

Wednesday I made the right choices. And I made a choice not to give up. I'll make the same choice today, tomorrow, the next day, and the next day.

Because I am going to do this. No matter what.

(title from "girl from the gutter" by kina)

one voice in a million

I am doing everything possible to remain positive. Reminding myself that I am slowly getting to my goal. But still, I feel myself hitting a wall. It's both mental and physical.

I started working out (again) at the end of April. It was a zumba class here and there but nothing stead. Then I went to a deep water aerobics class, and it all began to change.

The date was May 4, 2011. I pressed send on an email and agreed to begin meeting someone three mornings a week for a short cardio work-out and then thirty to forty minutes of weight lifting. This week I have turned the three mornings a week to five mornings a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday will be a short cardio work-out and then thirty to forty minutes of weight lifting. Tuesday and Thursday I will spend forty minutes to an hour doing cardio. And then, for the summer, I plan on attending water aerobics or aqua zumba every day during lunch.

And I will continue to watch what I eat. It's the one thing I struggle with the most. Specifically, I struggle once I am home from work or at a restaurant. It's much easier to watch what I eat while at work because I do not have much choice on eating food other than what I bring to work with me.

As stated previously, I feel myself hitting a wall. Or maybe I have already hit the wall but am determined to climb over it instead of allowing it to stop me. I've let it win in the past and have thrown in the towel and found excuses to support my reasons for stopping this effort to lose weight and be healthy.

But this time, I have done everything to overcome every excuse. Even when I was sick, I worked out. In the past, I would have stayed away from the gym. And that would have led to the same cycle of never going back until months later. I'm proud of myself for going even when I didn't want to.

And I am seeing changes. Slowly. More slowly than I would like, but they are there.

I took pictures on 5/17/11. They were taken about two weeks after I started a regular routine. Two weeks and a little less than ten pounds ago. I decided to also take pictures today. I've heard people say it looks like I have lost weight, but I wanted to see it.

And I do.

Granted, the outfit is different. And possibly more flattering. And I am much more tan, thanks to deep water aerobics and aqua zumba outside (along with assisting/teaching swim lessons five evenings a week). But still it's there.

I see it the most in my face. And a little in my arms and stomach. Such a little thing to see a difference, but it is also such a big thing. I think it was exactly what I needed. A reminder I can go to when I hit the wall and feel like nothing I do will make a change. A reminder that the change is there. I just have to look for it.

This is all about me. It's not about looking better for someone else or fitting a certain mold. I've tried to lose weight for other people before, and it always fails. I've also used other people and commitments as a reason for not being able to work out. But not this time.

I deserve this. Everyone deserves the chance to create the best version of themselves, and everyone should do it. And the things that suffer, if anything does, possibly weren't what you were meant to spend your time doing. At least that's how I look at it. Because it would be far too easy to look at what is suffering and spend my time worrying about that rather than worrying about myself.

Is there a time for service and unselfishness? Yes. Do I want to be able to serve and assist others? Of course. But I also know that I am practically worthless if I have not first taken care of myself.

One of my (current) favorite television shows is Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition. I love seeing real people transform in the midst of their real lives. Last week's episode, chronicled the journey of a man who lost over 300 pounds in just one year. So much about his story struck a chord with me, but the one thing that got me a bit teary eyed was when he said he was going to pay it forward. Once he lost his weight, he would help others. (see more here)

I don't know if I will be in a position to help others lose weight, but I know my heart is to help others. I am passionate about foster care and adoption. About families. About ending cycles of abuse and neglct. And I want to be the best advocate I can be for those going through difficult times. I want to be the best person I can be for the children and parents and families and loved ones who need a helping hand and who need to be reminded that someone cares for them.

And so I continue on my journey. And one day, maybe a year from now and maybe longer, I will get there. And I can't wait to see what happens both during the journey and after the journey.

(title from "strip me" by natasha bedingfield)