Sunday, April 29, 2012


"You can't have roots and wings, Mel." ~Sweet Home Alabama

Ever since I saw that movie that phrase has stuck with me.

I've been told "dream big", "reach for the stars", "don't limit yourself", and "if you can dream it you can do it".

I've always thought it was a no-brainer: Why would you ever stay if you had the opportunity to do what no one else believed you could ever do? Why would you ever be content staying in the same place and doing the same exact thing that everyone else did? Why would be want to become a statistic?

Now facing that decision, it's not as clear cut as I always thought I'd be.

To soar, you have to basically be alone. Have wings implies using them. Leaving everyone. It means Skype conversations instead of Sunday dinners. It means looking at pictures on Facebook while you sit in your dorm alone. It means being the minority.
And that's not a bad thing. It's different, but not bad.

To stay firmly planted, you have to stay put for the most part. It means telling people that you had the chance to be brave and to be different, but you decided to pass it up.

As I was in Boston, I kept thinking of Sweet Home Alabama.

"You can't have roots and wings, Kimberly."
Maybe some people can pull off having both, but I can't.

I'm officially going to be a BYU Cougar.
I'm staying right here.

Not because I'm scared. Not because I didn't think I could do it.

Because it feels right. Because when I went back East, I realized how insanely lucky I am to live here.
Yeah, everyone does this.
Yeah, I had the chance to be unique.

But really?
Just like one shouldn't make their decision based on fear, one should also not make their decision based on what everyone else thinks.

"That's an obvious choice, Kim. Get out of this stupid Utah county."
That's their opinion, not mine. I, for one, love it here.

People tell you that being brave is simply going against what everyone else does.
That is NOT bravery.

Bravery is knowing something is right and doing it.
Even when that means being like everyone else.
Even when people are going to shake their heads and think you are ridiculous.
Even when that means giving up your wings for your roots.

My name is Kimberly. I'm staying right here in Utah.

And I am brave.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Thoughts From Places: Boston (Part 1)

So it's been a while.
I said that I was going to Boston to see if I wanted to go to Boston University, and I didn't want to post anything until I actually had gone to Boston.
It took a while.

I had to go to the airport FOUR different times to get on the flight to JFK. Four times. The flights all left at midnight. So three nights I went to the airport, waited around for an hour, and then came home. I then had to go to school and try again the next night.

My dad and I were exhausted.
Finally, finally, we got on a flight.

Sitting in the airport for hours really makes you think about things.
For me, it was about prayer and the Lord's will.

Understanding comes over time and only if you have the right mindset.

Airport Night 1: Lots of times we say "Lord, if it be Thy will, do this for me......" and then even though we say that we want His will, we really just want His will to be whatever is most convenient for us.

But when things don't go our way, we have to make the best of what we have.
So we went to the Bee's game.

Airport Night 2: Sometimes we get so frustrated with our lives and feel hopeless. I mean, look at this:

It's empty. We were the first people there. And yet, we didn't get on the flight. It's sort of heartbreaking.
We have to hurt and move on. It takes humility. Funny thing about humility: we have to earn it again and again.

Airport Night 3: Always look on the bright side. Throughout everything you do, have fun.

 My bug, Lady, found her first love. She likes older men, obviously.

 On the shuttle back to our car, I took a cool picture of our reflections.

I also pretended to be the Pope.
Pretty good, huh?

Airport Night 4: I had finally consoled myself. I was completely fine with not going to Boston at all.
And then our names were called. We made it onto the flight.

 We even got extra leg spacing chairs!
Oh yeah. Look at all that space.

And finally... we made it to the East Coast.
Fun fact: Pretty much the only difference between here and the East Coast airports are that the East Coast have lots of coffee and Utah has none. That's all.

Things happen, and we have to be okay with it. Not just to lie to ourselves and say we're okay with it, but to be actually okay with it. Honestly giving your heart.

Things work out. Eventually.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The Unparalleled Discipline of Letting Go.

"Let it go."
My favorite sentence and the hardest advice for me to follow.

I cannot tell you how many times I've tried.
I cannot tell you how many times I thought I learned my lesson and was ready to move on.
Maybe this time is the end, or maybe not.

Often times, I get caught up in ridiculous hopes and go over perfect memories again and again and again.
I'll "allow" myself to feel bad for a day... then that day turns into a week which turns into two weeks and eventually the knot in my heart reaches Gordian sizes and I feel like all progress has been lost.

Honestly, the only way to truly let it go is to turn to the Savior.
As many times as it takes.
As many times as you forget.
Trust me.
He'll be there every time.

But for me, letting go takes extreme discipline.
I cannot listen to remotely sad or reminiscent music.
(This cuts out basically almost every female singer I listen to. Sara Bareilles, Ingrid Michelson, Christina Perri)

I cannot open my old journals.
I cannot look at pictures on facebook.
I cannot tell every story I want to.

Honestly, this discipline makes me so much happier. Truly. You want to be full of joy? Turn to the Lord. Not once, not every little while, but always.

It takes work.
It's easy to give up and daydream again.

But letting go means taking control.
Read that sentence again.

Letting go means taking control.
Taking control means growing up.
Growing up (contrary to popular belief) means finding greater joy.

Happiness happens inside of you.
It's not always getting what you want, and it's not waiting for a little bit and then getting what you want.
Happiness is when what you have is what you want, because you know it's what you need.

Take control of your human heart. Let it go. Turn to the Lord. Find true joy.

It's well worth the discipline.

Once you've truly moved on, you can pull out that Taylor Swift CD again. You can think of your stories and laugh instead of wanting to relive them. That's when you know you've truly let it go.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

In Which I Break A Promise.

So I got a request to write a blog post about something:
My Best Kiss.
But I can't.
Believe me, I thought about it and I chose one specific experience.
I know that I said I would write about it.
But I can't.

See, once I told everyone about my first kiss. I told the story so many times over the span of a single day that it ceased to be mine. It belonged to the world, not to me.
I promised myself that would never happen again.

My memories are my most precious possessions.
I'm not ready for them to become public domain.

So... sorry? I feel sort of bad because I promised something and now I'm not following through.

Oh man, this is awkward....
So I'm going to Boston on Friday. That's exciting.
I'll take pictures and post them.... I'll try to look sophisticated, but no promises. Lately I've been sporting the "Baseball T-Shirt" look.

Okay, this isn't getting less awkward.

Can I just give some advice?
While in a relationship, don't take for granted the little things.
Kisses are great. Large displays of affection are great.
But trust me, every time he brushes the hair out of your face or sends you a goodnight text or plays Star Wars with your little brother means just as much as every time he kisses you, if not more.

I think the little things are what truly make you fall in love.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

The Choices I Made Yesterday.

I was six year old, it was September, and I sat on the edge of my school's blacktop. My dad sat next to me, but I didn't look at him.
"You can skip Kindergarten, Kim. You're smart enough. But you need to realize something... if you do this, it's going to change your life for forever."
As he spoke, I looked at my white tights. I picked at the tear on the knee. I didn't understand.
"Change my whole life? Not really. It's only Kindergarten. Not even a real grade." I thought.

And then I chose.
That choice led me to my first grade classroom.
It led me to bad handwriting that never left.
It led me to honors classes starting in fourth grade.
        Those classes led me to beluga whales and Democrats.
Honors classes led me to 7 AP tests and uncountable hours spent on homework.

That choice led me to my friend Christian and our recycling bin.
It led me to drama and Mark Chamberlin and the moon and the first time someone held my hand.
It led me to Mr. Wicks' classroom, lifelong friends, unanswered questions, and true learning.
It led me to The Beatles and Coldplay.
It led me to bright blue eyes and the longest unrequited romance ever.

It led me to New Zealand and then straight back home.
It led me to Student Council.
        StuCo led me to Prom planning and soccer games and my Seniors.

That choice led me to B4 seminary.
       That seminary class period led to after school discussions with Brother Anderson who led me to apple pie.
       That apple pie led me to red hair and lilacs and my first kiss and baseball.
       That redhead led me to true joy and heartbreak and unparalleled growth.
       That growth led me to the temple every Thursday and to Brother Wetzle, my favorite temple worker.

That choice I made on the blacktop over a decade ago changed my entire life.
That choice I made while picking at my tights directed everything I've ever known.
That choice led me here.

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. So, watch your step."

Monday, April 9, 2012

The Good Kind.

I love you with the good kind of love.

I love you with the kind of love that makes me want to roll down my windows and sing out loud.
I love you with the kind of love that makes me feel free. That unties my heart.
I love you with the kind of love that makes me smile when I remember your hands.

I don't love you with a drowning love.
I don't love you with a love that tears me apart.
I don't love you with a love that takes the colour out of everything.

I love you the same way you sing.
                          the way the world looks in my sepia colored glasses.
                                         the same way time heals our hurts.

I love you beautifully.

So it's alright if we don't write often.
It's alright if we change in the next two years.
It's alright.
Because I love you with the good kind of love.
And that's enough for me.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Living Life.

I'm not a photographer, nor do I claim to be.

But I do claim to be someone who loves her life.
And, sadly, someone who becomes apathetic a little.

To get over my urge to simply go through the motions, I have to constantly find ways to keep myself busy and doing new things.
I believe in living life, so I started this tiny project:
Photo A Day April.

 Day 1: Your reflection

 Day 2: Colour

 Day 3: Mail

 Day 4: Someone who makes you happy

Day 5: Tiny (thanks, Kloie, for the baseball eraser!)

Day 6: Lunch

There are stories behind all of the pictures. If you're curious and not my friend on facebook, let me know.

I'll post as I keep going. I'm not a fan of posting everyday (personal preference, nothing against daily posters), so I'll do every few days.

And hey, go out and live life, okay? It's really enjoyable.