Taking Control

I haven't been in control of my life for some time now. I've been obediently doing as everyone expects, but it's time for a change. This semester has given me many challenges and I've been left wondering if this is really the right path for me. So I've decided to take some of that control back. 

I'm taking a more unconventional route for this coming semester: I'm not enrolling in classes at Baylor. I'm using this time for self-reflection and self-discovery. I know a lot of people may be thinking, "what self do you need to discover?" That's a question I can't answer right now because I don't even know. I've never given myself the time to find out. I've been basing my decisions on what other people thought was best for me, but I've grown tired trying to fit everyone else's perspective. I need to live without the pressure to be a certain thing so that I can find the things that truly make my soul glow. I want to pour all of myself into what I do every day. I want meaning, not achievement. 

I live to be creative. I love music, I love pictures, I love stories. Anything that starts from within and flows out of the body, mind, and spirit is a beautiful thing. And I want to make beautiful things. Yes, I've been a music student for three and a half years. Shouldn't this satisfy me creatively? For some, it might. For me, it doesn't. Being a music student in such a high-pressure, strictly structured, cookie-cutter environment has actually drained me of the love and passion I once had for music and singing. I want to make music for me. Music that comes from my soul. Music that isn't being made to please someone else's expectations.

Art is a thing that I wish I had spent more time cultivating in my younger years. Unfortunately, come middle school, students are required to choose just one thing to focus on outside of academia, which is a shame in my opinion. I loved singing, but I also loved art and I thought acting looked like so much fun and I wanted to learn to play an instrument. I didn't want to spend my days sitting through lectures on math and science and subjects of the like. I wanted to do things, really do them. Hands on experiencing everything. And so visual arts had to be left by the way side. I always thought "it's too late to start becoming an artist. You left it behind for music. Music is your art now; you'd never catch up to artists your age anyway." This is a crippling mindset. Many things I have read and many conversations I have had recently have shown me that this is not true. I don't have to have a degree in something to have merit or for it to be considered "legitimate". I also joined an art therapy group this past semester, which changed my life. Art, of all kinds, for me is a way to put my thoughts and feelings into a language that everyone (including myself) can understand. As strange as it seems, the language I think and exist in is not the same one I use to communicate externally. Feelings and emotions are physical and psychological phenomena that oftentimes cannot be accurately expressed through language. I plan to use this time off to find the true artist behind all the masks and to really let my spirit take control of my being and show the inner world of Abby.

If you haven't gathered by the lengthiness of this post,  writing is something I enjoy doing. I mentioned before that the concept of language can be very frustrating for me when I'm trying to fit my giant, irrationally shaped feelings into its tiny, rigid boxes. I was referring more to speech and trying to get everything out correctly on the spot. The act of writing, however, lets me test out ideas and analogies without the pressure of someone listening. While writing, I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing. It's much easier to scribble out pen strokes, erase pencil, or press the backspace button hundreds of times than it is to retract a statement that someone else definitely heard. Writing lets me proofread my thoughts and make sure every word was thoughtfully chosen and carefully placed.

I hope this satisfies the concern of those of you who worry about me and what seems to be an abrupt change in my person. I understand the worry but I sincerely want you to know that this should be cause for celebration and encouragement. If I seem different, just remember that I'm not hiding anymore and that the person that emerges from this period of soul searching and self discovery will be more true to my being than any of the personas you've encountered before. I love everyone in my life and I know many people love and care about me, and I want to let you know that this will be good for me and you, because I will be a true and honest manifestation of the spirit that has been trapped inside my fears and my need to please others.

I want to encourage everyone to spend some time in reflection and see if who you are is true and honest. Are you happy? Do you love yourself? If you could give your soul any kind of nourishment, what would it be? Then, go out and do it! Make changes in yourself and your life! Know your values and know yourself, because You. Are. Beautiful. It's never too late to make changes! Don't let the ideas of our society make you feel trapped. Existence should be free and edifying. So go find your soul and get reacquainted with it. You'll never regret it and you'll always be thankful.

Live honestly and love everything.

My Story

My Story


My last blog was created during a challenging time in my life. I wasn't myself. That wasn't me writing that blog. I had someone looming over my shoulder, watching every move I made, every word I said, every person with whom I came in contact. I was with a boyfriend who was trying to change me into who he thought the perfect girlfriend would be. All I was told was what I was doing wrong and what I needed to do in order to be perfect.

Perfect. I hate that word. Perfection doesn't exist.

Before this relationship, I was strong, smart, and I wouldn't take mistreatment from anyone. But somehow he was different. I don't know why. He wasn't any more attractive than anyone else, but for some reason, he made me feel special. I guess I  really was special to him. So special he felt the need to guard me from everyone else, even my family.

He weakened me, made me feel like no one would ever love me or accept me for who I really am. And I believed him. Before I met this boy, I never would have let someone do that to me. He would call me manes and tell me all the things that no one would love about me except him. I gave up my friends and social life for this person. I became a hermit and only made social contact in class. Just to make this guy happy. But he was never happy.

I was scared. Always walking on eggshells. I never knew when he would crack. I started deleting text messages, changing my friends' names in my phone and changing my facebook password frequently. I stopped checking it altogether whenever I would visit him. I've never known fear like that. I can remember the feeling of terror when my phone would ring and the relief when it would be my mom or one of the few friends he deemed "non-threatening". 

At the start of last summer, I decided I didn't want this anymore. I was tired of being afraid of the person I supposedly loved and tired of being ashamed of myself. I made new friends and decided to stand up for myself. He eventually broke up with me, which was hard, but I had friends who helped me through everything and for whom I will forever be grateful. I slowly grew back into the person I was before. She took some getting used to, but I like her. She's smarter than she was before. She's secure in the relationships she has. She'll stand up for herself. She'll admit when she's wrong. She knows perfection isn't real. She loves who she is--the good and the bad.

And that guy? He isn't scary anymore. Just remnants of a nightmare in my mind. It feels like a dream. Like it didn't really happen. I haven't seen him since the day he left and I'm okay with keeping it that way. Sometimes, I forget he actually exists. And then someone mentions to me that they saw him somewhere around town and I'm reminded that he's still out there. 

I've abandoned that blog because of the negative ties it has. I don't want to go back to that time and I don't want to be reminded of the person I was. That wasn't me. Anything you see here is something from deep within my mind, body, and soul. This Is Me.