Quick Note!

I've missed this little blog of mine.  I've wanted to start blogging again.  It's slightly difficult when I don't have internet at my apartment.  I love my little apartment and my little Thomas.  I have found that my favorite part of my day are the fifteen minutes after my alarm goes off when Thomas snuggles on my chest and lets me pet him.  You guys have got to meet this cat.

My time in senior practicum clinical is drawing to an end.  I'm on my last shift here in the NICU.  I graduate in about two weeks.  My dad and grandparents are coming for the graduation.

And come February Thomas and I are moving to Nashville.  And maybe I couldn't sleep last night because I looked at ticket prices and it's about $250 to fly from Nashville to Salt Lake round trip.  I need to get my Provo on.

It's Been So Long!

Quick update, as it's been so long!

I moved out and got my own place!  But it's no longer my own place because I also got a cat.  His name is Thomas and I'm pretty much obsessed with him.  I spend way too much time putting pictures of him on Instagram and way too much money buying him toys.  Sometimes I don't want to leave my house because I'd rather hang out with him.  I don't think this is a good sign.  He has some cute nicknames, like Tom Cat, Baby Cat, Kitten Little, Baby Love, Love Bug and Nuisance.  We play tag and hide and seek.  He likes to wake me up an hour before my alarm goes off by crawling on top of me and rubbing his cold, wet nose all over my face.  I love him.  

Next update: I'm in my last semester of nursing school.  I'm doing my senior practicum in a NICU.  So far, it's going well.

Lastly, I have an interview for a nurse residency at Vanderbilt on October 23rd.  You have no idea how excited and nervous I am.

Back to work, school, church and life!

In Which I Explain

I think that I should probably clarify my last blog post.  Everything is fine.  I haven't done anything wildly inappropriate.  Maybe nothing even mildly inappropriate.  Let's just get on with it.

There's this 21-year-old red headed boy at my church who I recently became friends with.  We were friends... and then he started coming on to me.  But he's a big joker and it was hard to tell if he was actually flirting and interested or if he was just being funny.  I mean, one of the first things I ever said to him was to point at a picture of a little girl with curly red hair to say, "we could make a baby that looked like that."  So, he was being flirty.  And I finally told him that I couldn't decide if he was being flirty or just being ridiculous.  And one thing led to another and while we both decided that we didn't really want a relationship, we were down for cuddling.  And this begins my friends with benefits situation.

We're just friends.  I seriously have no interest in being his girlfriend.  There are other guys I'm interested in.  He talks about the girls he's interested in.  We just watch movies and cuddle and kiss and talk.  And we don't talk about it with people at church.  That's rule number 2.  Rule number 3 is that we follow the Law of Chastity.  Because I may be in a friends with benefits kind of mood, but I'm not in a repenting kind of mood.  I don't want to do that.  It seems terribly awkward and awful.

It's such a conflicting thing.  Because we're two very consenting adults.  We're very open about the situation with each other.  We set limits.  He won't do anything unless I absolutely tell him that it's okay, and not only okay but that I want him to.  It's low key and fun and feels good and we're both into it and nothing about it is personal.  But it also makes me feel like a slut.  Like I'm using this guy for his body.  Which I am.  But he's also using me for mine.  And we're both fully aware of it, so that should take that feeling away, but it doesn't.  There's this guilt I feel, like I'm letting people down.  Like people would think less of me if they found out.  I can just imagine the look on their faces.  The condescending, "you're doing what?"  And because there's an age difference I wonder if I'm forcing him into something (which is ridiculous because we've hashed it over and I'm definitely not).  I worry about the consequences of my actions here.  How is this effecting me spiritually?  Am I backsliding?  Is this an absolutely horrible idea?

I really think it might be (because I'm pretty much slut shaming myself) but also, I'm going to do it anyway.  Because I'm 26 years old, it's been six years since the last time I dated/kissed anyone, and you know what?  I just want to.  That's all there really is to it.

A Thousand Little Decisions

Many months ago I sat in Relief Society as we talked about walking the right path.  How was it that we were all sitting there in Relief Society when people we'd grown up with and loved would not be sitting in a Relief Society that day?  

I have a slew of friends who have left the church.  It started when I was 14 or 15 with Sabrina.  I was shocked when she told me she didn't believe the church was true anymore.  Sabrina had had way more of a testimony than I did.  At 18, there was Tati.  Again, I was shocked.  Tati had made it to her first baptism anniversary.  She had been converted.  I had never had that.  I didn't understand how she could have felt the spirit and known the church was true and been baptized and then leave.  As I've gone through BYU and the years that have followed my time there, I have seen so many people leave.  And I don't judge them.  Because I've wanted to leave, too.  I know they have their reasons.  And a lot of them are good reasons.  It's just something that has always confused me:  why am I still here?  Maybe it's more like: how am I still here?  

How do we find ourselves in situations we never imagine ourselves to be in?  I think that's what the lesson was boiling down to.  And someone said maybe the most true things that I had ever heard and understood:  "It's thousands of little decisions."  If we find ourselves looking at someone we think is way ahead of us it could very easily come down to thousands of tiny decisions that we have both made or not made.  For example, maybe Rochelle has a better relationship with Heavenly Father than I do because every day she made the decision to have a morning prayer, whereas I made the decision not to.  That's not one decision.  In ten years that's 3,650 decisions.  

I used to not understand how we could make bad choices.  I thought that there was this gateway system with all of these checkpoints to stop.  For example, in order to make the choice to watch a rated R movie you have to first decide that you're going to watch the movie, then you have to (for example) get out of your bed, put your shoes on, grab your keys and your wallet, leave your house, lock the door, unlock your car, get in your car, start the car, drive to the Smith's, park the car, get out of the car, enter the store, get in line for the Redbox, search through all of the Redbox movies, add the movie to your cart, go through about 4 pages of "are you sures," pay, take the movie, retrace all of your steps and then find yourself back in your bed putting the movie into your laptop to start and watch it.  That alone has two dozen or so moments where you could stop and say, "no, I'm not going to watch this movie."  So if you were striving to not watch rated R movies there were so many decisions to be made between actually determining that you would watch the movie to watching it where you could turn around.  

I understand, now.  Because I think I just knowingly made five hundred bad decisions in the course of a few hours.  And I wonder if in a few months I'm going to look back at today and think, "there were so many times when you could have turned back and you didn't.  What were you thinking?"  

Guys, I was thinking that it had been six years since I'd last kissed someone.  

In That Moment

Oh goodness.  Life is a whirlwind.  It really is.

I just submitted a filled out survey on where I want to do my senior nursing practicum.  Which is crazy.

I just got accepted to a summer nurse internship program where you work 36 hours a week one-on-one with a nurse (hopefully in a field I want).  I want this.  But with 17 credits of nursing school I worry that I'll want to die at the end of it.  Also, I just want to play in the Nolichucky and dance at drum circles in Asheville.

I may have seasonal allergies.  I've been trying to curb them... and had an allergic reaction to one of the medications and my face turned red and blotchy and still feels gross when I touch it, several days later.

This YSA at church just reactivated himself.  He has a degenerative neurological disease, which may be why he doesn't understand why it's not okay to hit on every woman in the room and why he tells lots of outrageous stories and goes on and on about weird things or personal things.  It's exhausting.

I was spreading myself too thin, I think.  In order to preserve my sanity I decided to loosen the reins on my church responsibilities.  Why invite everyone to do something when I just want to be with one or two people, not having to pretend to be someone I'm not to make people like me?  So we scheduled a small group outing to Asheville for last night.  And some people found out.  And it was a drama nuclear blow up.  And it was awful.

But you know what?  I still went to Asheville last night with Kyle, Ryan, Maricruz and Lexi.  And it was incredibly amazing and fun and I haven't smiled that hard in a really long time.  And Kyle looked so happy.  Ryan, Maricruz and Lexi had never been and they looked like they were loving every second of it.  It was just right.  We ate weird vegetarian food for dinner, danced at the drum circle, played Ryan's drum at the drum circle, walked in the rain, ate petit fours, watched Kyle and Ryan man bond while singing "Let it Go" and lay on each other's stomachs as we laughed and laughed and laughed.  And for lack of a better description, I'll borrow from The Perks of Being a Wallflower, "and in that moment, I swear we were infinite."  

Favorite Asheville moment, after seeing an old man and a middle aged woman grinding:

Kyle: He's a little old for her.
Jessica: I've never loved you more than in this moment.
Kyle:  I mean, good for him, I guess.
Jessica:  I've never hated you more than in this moment.

Also, to a woman dancing with her newborn strapped to her chest:
Kyle:  You're an awesome mom!

Don't Touch the Nurses

Guyz!  I got my hair did today and thought that it was the perfect time to take a selfie and share it with y'all!  Also, a good time for a blog update.  Shall we continue?

I call this post "Don't Touch the Nurses" because when I first started nursing school one of my teachers made a joke that they often had to tell the patients not to touch their students.  As in, the students would get hit on a lot and patients would try to flirt and touch them.  I thought that it was a joke and one of those things that would never happen to me.  But friends, sexual harassment is rampant in hospitals.  I seriously don't think I've ever been hit on in my life and now I'm being hit on once a week at work.  And... I work less than 20 hours a week in the hospital.  And while on one hand it's like, "oh, someone realizes that I'm a woman and worthy of attention," that literally makes up about 5% of my feelings.  The other 95% is "how dare you say these things to me," "stop commenting on my appearance," "I'm really not interested in drug addicts and/or senior citizens," etc, etc.  While I enjoy knowing I'll have a story to tell people, it angers me and makes me feel insecure and shamed.

So story time.

A few weeks ago I was sitting with a patient, not too much older than me.  He was in for a drug overdose.  And he spent the entire four hours I was with him telling me I had pretty eyes, that my facial expressions were cute, trying to hug me or leaning in really close to me, asking me why I was backing away from him, asking me if I had a boyfriend (I told him yes--Jesus).  It was really uncomfortable.

This weekend I sat with a really confused elderly man (we're talking almost 80).  He was fine, until his nephews came in and asked him, "have you noticed how pretty this girl is that's sitting with you?"  Then they left and it was as if he realized that I was free game.  As I plugged in his IV pole and explained to him that he wasn't going home that night but was staying in the hospital with me, he said, "You're a real nice lady.  I can stay here with you tonight.  You can sleep in the chair... or you can sleep on top of me.  I'm not kidding.  You're a nice lady and you look good, too.  Give me a call if you want to come over and be with me--not as a helper but as man and woman."  He asked me if I had a boyfriend and I said, "kind of..." because by now I'm understanding that they won't back off if they know I'm single.  He then told me to call him if it didn't work out.  This happened three times over the course of 30 minutes, him asking me to get in his bed.

That's the end of that, for now.  But... there's something else I've been wanting to write about.  A few weeks ago I wrote about how I went sledding and hurt my back and called Kyle over to give me a blessing.  During the course of his visit, things got really uncomfortable when he told me that he was trying not to spend time alone with me anymore because he didn't like what people at church were thinking/saying about the two of us.  After talking for a few minutes I said, "oh... you think I like you."  He said that he had picked up on that.  I told him that I thought that he was great and at times that scared me because I didn't think I'd find someone for me that was as good of a person as he was... but that I didn't like him and didn't want to date him.  It was humiliating.  I see how he would have thought that I liked him, especially because that weekend I had asked him if he wanted to go to dinner and it happened to be Valentine's Day and our friend Emily didn't want to go so it ended up being just the two of us (confounded with the fact that I've known for awhile that I have a hard time telling him that I'm grateful he's my friend in person when I can do it via text and wanting to work on my ability to be open and vulnerable in person and maybe took this moment to tell him that I was grateful for him).

But anyways, this is why it's hard.  It's hard because I had finally, finally realized that I could be me with him.  I could be silly and honest and weird and serious and everything would be okay.  We would still be friends and his opinion of me wouldn't change and I could tell him things and not worry about if I was opening up too much or too little and no longer worrying that I would really start to like him if I did open up.  We were friends.  That was it.  And it was perfect because I... because I've missed that part of me.  It's not that I can't be myself or open with Emily, because that's not the case.  But Emily fulfills a different social need for me--she fills what my lady friends filled.  And Kyle was finally filling in for Blake.  I've missed that and I need it.  I need someone to sit on my couch and be able to talk about my life in the context of the Gospel with (and not that my lady friends and I never did that) and share my worries and my fears and anxieties about the church with.  I've missed feeling secure with my male friendships.  I miss being able to love a boy without being in love with them.  And it was finally there for me.  I finally felt free to text Kyle and invite him to do things frequently without worrying that I might be overwhelming him or worrying that if he said no that it was a reflection of his feelings about me.  Kyle telling me he didn't think we should be alone together because ultimately he thought that I liked him has really been a struggle because now I don't feel secure anymore.  Yeah, it's great that he was comfortable enough to bring it up but it was horrifying and humiliating.  I asked him if he believed me (that I didn't like him) and he said that he had lingering doubts.  The last thing I wanted was for our friendship to change from what it was and now his "lingering doubts" are killing me because I feel like I have to prove that I don't like him and I don't know how to do that.  If I care too much or text too much or ask him to hang out too much, is it going to make him withdraw because I might like him?  So what this whole fiasco has really done has made me want to withdraw and made me a mess because I don't know how to behave with him now.  I feel like I shouldn't ask him to hang out one on one anymore.  I feel like we need to have a chaperon or a referee and I don't want that.  I want us to sit on a couch without anything going on.  I want to tell him what's really going on in my life and what it is that I'm really worrying about or struggling with.  I want to tell him my stories.  And I want him to do the same.  I want to hear about his problems and give him advice that I know he won't take.  I want to hear his opinions on things that I'm working through.  I just want to be okay being us.  And I can't because I'm no longer okay with being me around him.  I feel like I need to keep it quick and light and airy.  And it's seriously the worst.  And now when he is too busy to hang out I don't automatically assume he has work or something but assume that it's just that he doesn't want to hang out with me.  Which leads me to feeling like I'm not worthwhile which just perpetuates that problem.  And it makes me angry because half the time it makes me want to cling to him and the other half of the time it makes me want to push him away and decide that I can make it without him as my friend.  I don't want any of that.  I just want it to be like it was before he decided to voice his concerns that I had feelings for him.

Man Problems.  That's what this post should have been titled.  

Snow Day #7

School has been cancelled left and right for the last week and a half.  Last week we had school on Friday, but there was a two hour delay, so I actually didn't have school.  This week we've had school on Monday and Wednesday so far.  (In case the math doesn't add up, I have a clinical on Saturdays that was cancelled because of the weather, so... today is snow day #7).

What's been on my mind recently is where I'm going after graduation.  It's been a huge source of anxiety for me.  Maybe it doesn't seem like that big of a deal, because I don't even graduate until December, but for reals, it's down to the same length of time as a pregnancy.  When you realize you're pregnant do you really think you'll be ready and have it figured out by the time that baby gets here?  No.  If you do, you're probably crazy.  Or on baby #6 with a good cash flow to not worry about money.

So where do I go?  I have legitimate reasons for wanting to return to Utah.  But... the thing is, it wouldn't be the same.  It's changed, I've changed.  I wouldn't be able to go back and step in to my old life.  Nothing's ever the same.  I would return thinking that I could take my place back in my friend group and realistically I can't.  Because people move on.  They adapt without you.  They move cities, they get married, they have babies.  And then it's you all alone, feeling sad, because it's not what you were thinking that it would be.

I was thinking about putting grad school off for a year or two, but I don't think that's a good idea anymore.  I think if I don't do it now it'll just be harder to do it later.  And grad school will actually give me structure and a place to be.  So, for now, the plan is to apply to grad schools this November.  I'll graduate in December and stay within five hours or so of where I'm currently living.  That way moving isn't the biggest deal in the world.  That means I could live in Knoxville or Nashville or Asheville or Charlotte or a few other places that have real potential.  I'll start to hear back from grad schools early next year and I'll pick one and pack up at the end of the summer.  I'm still researching, but it's looking like I want Vanderbilt or Marquette or University of Michigan or Emory or, well, let's be real.  I'm not too picky.

I'm freaking out a little bit over my calling.  It overwhelms me a good deal of the time.  I don't think I'm giving it enough and yet what little I give it is exhausting and also a cause for people to point out how I could be doing more.  It's so frustrating and depressing.  I talked to Kyle about it the other night.  He told me that if anyone could do this then it was me.  I think he might be right.  It's the same reason I was good at being a CA--I can latch on to people and make them all hang out.  But this group of people... it's so dysfunctional.  It's the weirdest and most unlikely group of people I've ever met.  And doing something with them and for them is hard to figure out.

Anyway, enough for now.  I should be studying for my OB test.  Or making tochos.  Which, if you didn't know, were nachos made out of tater tots instead of chips.  Put some of that shiz in your belly tonight.

Snow Day x3

How now, brown cow.

Apparently the state of Tennessee shuts down for the slightest snow fall.  Here it is Wednesday and it's our third snow day in a row.  A snow day means that I had no school on Monday, no work study or institute on Tuesday, and due to some soon to be revealed misfortunes, no interning on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Monday I spent my first snow day ever eating Chik-Fil-A with Emily, going to Kmart for snow pants in preparation for my first skiing trip on Thursday, eating Dunkin Donuts with Emily at Kyle's house as we light an ear candle in Emily's ears, watch The Good Lie, and eventually, the three of us head out for pizza, quickly followed by Arby's curly fries and McDonald's hot fudge sundaes.  Naturally, we ate a lot of fast food that day.  It was wonderful and Emily and I were tempted to allow ourselves to get snowed in at Kyle's.  Instead, we left during the "freezing rain" and drove 20mph back to Emily's.

Late on Monday we heard that we would have a snow day the next day.  Tuesday morning Emily called to say that she and our nursing school friend David were purchasing sleds to go sledding and that I should join.  I threw my new snow pants on and went outside.  It took me five minutes to open my car door.  After getting my scraper out of the backseat it took me ten minutes to get the 1/4 inch of ice off of my front windshield.  Fearing that I wouldn't be able to open my door back up if I closed it to scrape the ice off of the side windows (and wanting to get to the golf course to sled) I only cleared off the front and back windshields.  I got to the golf course and after three attempts realized that I wouldn't be able to make it up the hill to the parking lot.  So I parked my car on the actual hill and headed up to meet Emily and David.  It was great.  We spent an hour sliding down various hills and having a fine time.  At one point we got to the top of a pretty big hill.  Remember, we were on a golf course so periodically there were little roads for the golf carts.  David goes down this hill first and falls off his sled about half way down.  I go next.  As I climbed on top of the sled David yelled out to be careful as there was a road that went through the hill half way down.  I get on my sled and start going only to realize as I begin to approach the road that there is a drop off of about a foot between the hill and the little road.  Needless to say I hit the road pretty hard on my back and felt my spine compress.  I started screaming and became terrified.  I fell off my sled and lay down on the ground.  The pain was awful.  I couldn't get a full breath in.  Moving was difficult.  David and Emily checked my spine and couldn't see anything wrong with it.  I could move.  I could feel my toes and my legs.  I lay on the ground for probably ten or fifteen minutes as David went to get me a blanket and I tried really hard not to cry.  I was terrified that I had caused some sort of permanent damage to my spine, and of course, this would happen when I don't have medical insurance.  I slowly got up and we slowly walked to my car.  Getting in the car and sitting up was unbearable.  Emily drove me to my house, got me in bed, and texted Kyle to come over.  She and David left, and I called my dad and cried about how scared I was.  He told me to go to the hospital.  I told him that I wasn't about to have a $10,000 MRI bill.  I called in to work for the next two days.  Kyle came, sat with me and talked with me for a few hours, gave me a blessing (I was pretty freaked out) and by the time he left I was feeling calm and like everything was going to be okay.  It didn't hurt to roll on my bed anymore and I was able to get up and walk to the kitchen without a problem.

Now, it really only hurts to bend down and to sit in some positions.  Today is another snow day.  I am spending it laying around my house.  Tonight, Elder Christofferson.

Also, because this post wasn't really funny at all, my favorite recent creeper patient comment to me (while giving a bath, of course): "You look okay."

Random Things I'm Thinking About

A few things:

Today was a good hair day.  And a good boob day.  You know how it's hard to have one of those, let alone a day where both are good?  Today I had both.

Apparently I've been driving on a suspended license for about six months.  So that's fun.

If one of your top favorite apostles were coming to your area and was giving a devotional for *married* couples, would you sneak in despite your single status?

Last weekend these kids in my ward got married.  He's 31 with Aspergers.  She's 20 with a history of abusive relationships.  They'd known each other for five weeks.  

On the way to this wedding I was in the back seat of a friend's car.  She went too fast at a corner and we ended up in a three foot ditch.  I walked out of there perfectly fine.  

Because of the accident, we missed the actual marriage ceremony, where her vows were apparently "I will never ever leave your side, ever" and he said in response "I will never sign divorce papers."  How did I miss that magical moment?

This semester in school we're doing rotations in pediatrics, psych, and the best specialty in the world: obstetrics.  

At work I'm getting a little nervous over how much I enjoy being on the orthopedic floors.  I have one job:  become a labor and delivery nurse.  End of story.

I took the day off of work yesterday so Emily and I could go on an adventure.  And of course, we got our first snow since Halloween.  So we had donuts, went to the library, and studied.  

I'm having a hard time coming up with goals for this year.  I would love to hear your ideas of goals that I should make for myself.  Like, where do you think that I could really improve?  I want this year to be more meaningful.  I don't want to simply write down that I'll learn how to roast a chicken.  I want to make goals that will better me and bring me more in line with the woman that I hope to be.

I watched Boyhood.  I died, I loved it so much.  It's simple and real and honest.  And a world that I was never privy to.

A few weeks ago I was set apart as the ward YSA representative.  In the blessing I was told what a huge responsibility it was, as I was to bring these people back to Christ.  Now every time I look at the list of 94 names I have a slight panic attack.  I've only met about ten of them.  

Today at church was the Young Women in Excellence day.  That was a thing!  Sacrament meeting was devoted solely to the young women.  They gave the talks and the prayers and had a musical number.  After church they hosted a linger longer type thing with dinner and around the room were posters about each of the girls.  All the feminist feelings surged through my body.

In case you are confused by this (as most everyone is):  I am in school to get my bachelor's in nursing.  Just straight up nursing.  In order to be a midwife I have to get a master's degree, but you need a bachelor's in nursing before you can go for that.  So I'll graduate in December with another bachelor's degree and then go into a master's program either that following fall or the fall after.  

Today at church we sang "Each Life that Touches ours for Good" which made me cry.  First, it makes me think of Rochelle.  But also, we sang it as the closing song in Relief Society my last Sunday in Provo.  It led to Marie and I awkwardly crying in the back row as we hugged each other.  Guys, I haven't said this enough recently, but I love Marie.  I don't think I've ever had a more supportive, loving, and constant friend.  She knows me better than anyone and somehow she still finds a little corner of her heart to love me, even when I'm a horrible person and say terrible things to her out of anger, jealousy, and fear.

Lastly, I have some flowers on my nightstand with a card that reads "b*tches get stuff done."  Nothing has made me laugh that hard in a long time.  But since then, I had the following texting conversation with Emily and it came pretty close:

E: Let's go jump in the river.

J:  What the freak.  Are you under the influence of something?

J:  Or are you suicidal?

J:  Would we be naked?

E:  Ahaha I wasn't planning on being naked.  Or committing suicide.  I just went for the longest run and it feels amazing outside!

J:  ...I'm at church.  Until 3:30.  Aren't there icebergs in the river?

J:  I think I forgot to put deodorant on in one of my armpits.

E:  What could you have possibly been doing between applying deodorant to one arm and the other

J:  Who knows.

Lastly, I checked out the book "Jesus Feminist" from the public library.  And also a book on LDS polygamous wives and their writings.  Not as exciting, but still.  

Really, though, what goals would you make for me this year?

Correspondence

I go through these cycles where I feel really uplifted in life and everything is shiny and wonderful... and then they are dark and twisty and awful and it's like I'm walking alone in this world.  I'd been on a down for a couple of weeks when things started to happen.  It started with Institute last week when Kyle was supposed to teach and instead showed us a video where Elder Holland answers a bunch of questions.  It made me think a lot of good thoughts.  [Aside:  Sister Holland also gave input on a few things and she gave this lovely lovely spiel about how Jacob worked super hard for Rachel and Leah was kind of a let down, only for Leah to end up being the prized wife in the end according to Jewish literature--this was really important for me to hear for some reason.]  One of the things that was said was that as you follow the promptings of the spirit you will be given more promptings to follow, and as you deliberately ignore them then you will be given less opportunities to follow it.  

Then: Friday I drove Kyle to Asheville to look at a car and he mentioned something he had said to our mutual friend on the phone earlier in the week--that sometimes we live with the spirit in our lives and other times we just remember times when we did.  [another aside:  the word "remember" has seemed really heavy to me recently and full of meaning and I can't shake it or make sense of it.]  And I realized, "oh, yeah, I know this and right now I'm remembering previous times which almost makes it worse because I know how I'd like to be feeling."

Armed with these things I went to my friend Kricket's baptism.  [again, an aside:  isn't that name fabulous?  Can we please take a minute to picture me having a three year old girl with curly brown hair and big hazel eyes answering to the name of Kricket?]  I had previously agreed to give a prayer, because when someone asks you to pray at their baptism you just have to say yes.  Anyway, I show up and call previously mentioned mutual friend Sydney to see if she and Kricket are already at the church, because I showed up early in case they needed anything.  Annnnnd Sydney tells me that Kricket is MIA and not getting baptized that day.  But I'm already screwed because someone else is getting baptized so I still need to give a prayer and it's (of course) the closing prayer.  So I'm sitting there as this man in my ward gives a short and sweet four minute message about baptism, at which point I start to think about how I was baptized when I was 10 and how my uncle baptized me and my younger brother, Jacob one after the other.  And then we went and watched the woman get baptized and I zeroed in on the woman's hands in the missionary's hands and it made me remember how my uncle had us practice with him in our living room so we would know how to plug our noses and not drown.  And then I had this aha moment when I realized what a great influence my uncle had been when I was growing up and how he was a positive male role model and I actually had another man to add to my list of good men that I knew.  And I very, very strongly felt like I needed to email him and tell him about this.

So I did.  I wrote him an email.  And at the end I started crying and realized I should read it to my mom.  So I called her bawling like an idiot and explained what had happened and how I wanted to read it to her and she started bawling and we were both just blubbering fools.  And I read her this:

Dear Kenneth,
Yesterday I went to a baptism for a friend of mine.  She ended up not getting baptized because her family put her on lock down (the south is so... different) but I was already at the chapel and another person was getting baptized anyway.  So I stayed.  The speaker talking about baptism made me think about my own baptism.  And then when we went to the font I saw the way the missionary held the woman's hands prior to dunking her and it made me think about how we practiced before I was baptized.  We were in my living room and you showed me and Jacob how you would hold our hands and what hand we should use to plug our noses so we wouldn't drown.  It was this memory that really struck me.
Since moving to Tennessee I have become good friends with a man named Kyle.  When we became friends I laughed that he was my first guy friend who wasn't gay.  Because that's true.  I went to BYU and made friends with guys and after awhile they would always always tell me that they were gay.  I've talked with Kyle a lot about how in my life men have done some not so great things.  I dated a boy a few years ago who told me he didn't want to marry me because it wasn't worth taking on debt if I ended up going to medical school.  I spent a lot of time with another guy who was really manipulative and pressured me to have sex with him and wouldn't let me be friends with other guys.  I'd go to church activities with my friend Marie and guys would come up to us in the middle of our conversation and situate themselves between me and Marie (with their backs to me, blocking me out of the conversation) and ignoring me whenever I spoke up.  I've had a man moo at me when I was walking down the street.  And, well, I've struggled with my dad over the years.  It's better between us now, but it wasn't always.  What I remember about him from growing up is being scared.  Like I couldn't breathe.  Like anything I did or said was wrong.  I can't think of a lot of specific moments. I remember him calling me fat and ugly.  I remember him hitting Jacob.  But mostly I remember how he made me feel and it wasn't good.  Anyway, I bring this up because Kyle and I had a conversation that focused on the fact that marriage covenants required a lot of trust.  And I realized that I just don't trust men in general.  I don't trust them to treat me nicely or even like I'm a human being.  I don't trust them to not treat me as an object.  I don't trust them to not hurt me, physically or emotionally.  And while talking to Kyle about this I realized that if I sat down and thought about the men I knew, the GOOD men that I knew, I would have exactly two names.  And it really, really bothered me.  I didn't like that I couldn't think of many men that I knew that hadn't been trustworthy for whatever reason.
Anyway, at the baptism, remembering you practicing with me and Jacob, I remembered that it wasn't just two good men that I knew.  There are three.  I remember you coming over all the time.  I remember you taking us to movies and us pretending that we were driving in a space ship.  I remember waiting until the credits ended to see if our names were anywhere in them.  I remember you wrote stories and named the characters after us.  You taught us weird songs like "Found a Peanut."  You made an egg shaped candle for me with the picture of a boy in my sixth grade class on it that I had a crush on.  You were good, you were present, you were involved and you cared.  Again, I don't remember a lot of specific incidences (like I don't with my dad) but I remember the way that you made me feel and you made me feel important, special, and loved.  I know that if you asked Jacob and Jason they would have the same things to say about you.  I'm really, really grateful that you were a positive male role model in my life.  Thank you for taking the time to be in our lives.  I can't tell you enough how much it means to me.  I'm sure it meant a lot to me as a little girl, but it takes on a whole new meaning now.  Thank you, thank you, thank you, for being a good, Christlike man in my life.
Love,
Jessica

Annnnnd he responded with this:

Hello Jessica,
It is great to hear from you again. I am sorry that those guys were jerks to you. They don't know what they are missing.
Keep strong and always do what is right. Without wanting to get preachy, I want you to realize something. You are a daughter of Heavenly Father. Think about what that really means.
It is said so much in church and other places that it seems to lose it's meaning. But it is true. I have come to realize it over the years. I have also come to learn that his daughters are more special to him then his sons. Think about it. Only guys can have the priesthood. I don't think people realize what a responsibility that is. Take a Bishop for example. He is responsible for the salvation of every soul that lives within his ward boundaries. Member or not. Would you really like to have that responsibility? We have to work hard.
Not only do guys have the priesthood responsibility for their church duties, but one of the greatest responsibilities that they have is to care for the daughters of our Heavenly father. If priesthood holders do not take care of the daughters of God, what do you think will happen.
Unfortunately you have been around several guys who do not realize this. I suggest that you only seek to be with guys who realize who they are, and what the responsibility of the priesthood really is.
Work on your relationship with your Father in Heaven. Remember who you are. Remember that we once lived with him. When we lived with him, we were amazed at who he was and what he can do. We wanted to become like him. I don't mean like some all powerful being that can destroy planets with a flick of his finger, but an amazing person. Someone who loved us. Someone who was wise. Someone who would do anything for us to be happy. We wanted the attributes that he has.
He taught us that he was the way he is because of his experiences. We wanted the opportunity to have those experiences, so plans were made for us to come to Earth. Think about what happened there. He let his children come up with plans for how this life could work out. He let us choose which plan we wanted to follow. Our learning began before we came here.
Some of us haven't yet learned of why we are here, and others have forgotten. They are the ones who have been stumbling blocks in your life. Don't you forget who you are and why you are hear. Realize that your Father want's you to be happy and he wants to help you, but he wants you to learn.
After your baptism, you were given a gift that many of us have received, but we never really learned to use it. If you learn to use this gift, and exercise it well, he will guide you to the son that is right for you.
I am not saying go ultra religious, that isn't what God wants for us. He is realistic.
I was talking to my Aunt Gloria and she said that her mother gave her some advice when it came to looking for a man. He told her to find somebody who was righteous enough to be an apostle. I think that is a bit extreme, but it is a good point. What are the attributes that a man of God has? (Remember that religious extremism isn't one of them.)
Enough preaching.
Jessica, I had a great time with you and your brothers. I loved spending time with you all. You are my family and always will be. If you ever feel up to it, come visit. If things don't work out and you need a place to crash for a while, come.
I will always love you guys, and I hope to always be there when you need me.  Next time I won't be so preachy. (Unless you want to talk about that) 

And... Like 90% of that was not something I was expecting, wanting, or anything.  I like, don't even know.  I tell you that men are jerks and that you were a good influence on me and your response is "those men don't understand their Priesthood responsibility that you wouldn't want to hold anyway because it's too much responsibility and women are more righteous than men."

That was a let down.  But the feeling I had writing it and sharing it with my mom was really good.  So.  Maybe there was a point in it after all.

Privacy

Life has been different lately.  I got promoted to nurse intern.  Sam and August came to visit me from Oxnard.  My younger brother is currently in a psychiatric institution.  I got a calling at church.  I'm making new friends and seeing crazy things happen around me.  I've become entwined with the podcast "Serial."  I've had the flu--twice.

I want to remember how these things are effecting me.  I want to remember all the funny things August said to me, like:
"I was wondering, "did JessJess go to the gym?"
"I'm going to give this to my new best friend, Kyle."
"JessJess, you sound just like the girl in this song!"
"Don't I look so adorable in this picture?"
"I can't sleep in there!  I'm used to the couch, I like the flowers... and there's a picture of Salad Fingers in there that will give me nightmares!"

And I don't know if I'll ever forget Sam saying, "You're a pretty private person, JessJess," because I've never thought of myself as such.

I want to remember taking them to Bay's Mountain to look at the wolves and how we broke ice off of the lake from the floating bridge to toss at the rest of the ice, and how cool it sounded to shake the bridge because you could hear lots of ice cracking.  I want to remember August pointing out the "wolf's tail" hiding behind a log that was actually a dead carcass the wolves had left behind.  I want to remember picking up Kyle from the mechanic's and him whipping his head back to look at August and exclaim, "August, do you like My Little Pony?!"

I've been struggling lately, and I haven't really had anyone to talk to about it.  Emily's in Nashville, Marie is MIA and I can't figure out how to be open with Kyle.

I've been reading a lot (and having this come up in conversation around me) that Heavenly Father has a very specific plan for us individually.  I fully believe this.  I fully believe that He has a plan that will make me happier than my plans for myself would make me.  But... I've also gotten to this point where I'm fully aware that I'm an overweight, liberal feminist Mormon who is now 26 years old.  And I'm now almost 100% convinced that this is my life.  That there isn't someone for me to marry out there.  And I know that we all have our different struggles and maybe you're thinking that this is just a phase and I'm being pessimistic and that everyone goes through periods of singlehood.  But I think that my singlehood might just be permanent and I don't know how to handle that and I think I'm being realistic about my situation.  I don't fully understand why it's gotten to the point that most of my friends are on the marriage track and I find myself off of it.  I imagine myself single at 30 and... it's hard but I can see it.  But then at 40, 55, 70... Is this really just my life?  Is this what Heavenly Father has planned for me?  Why could I, or how could I, be happier single for the rest of my life than married?  Why is motherhood off the table for me?  I know I hash this over and over but it's just so real to me.  And I think that I believe that there is a happy plan for me and that I'll be okay and proud of myself in 50 years but I wonder--is this really the happiest I'll get?  How do I continue to be happy for others receiving blessings that seem to not be on my course?

I worry about getting close to men.  I'm worried that I'll start to feel for them.  And then when they don't have the same feelings back I'll assume that it's because I'm not enough or too much.  I don't want to invest anymore.  I don't want to be somewhere two years down the road wondering why nothing ever happened or why I wasn't good enough.  Because I know what's wrong with me, let's be real.  No one knows better than yourself what is wrong with you.  I wish I had enough faith in Heavenly Father to believe that I could be happy with this life.  I believe that love exists.  But I don't believe that it exists for me.  That's the long and short of it, I suppose.