True Confessions

Hey Team.

So true confessions:

I'm not doing so great. 

Remember my last post when I told you that was it?
There was no more secrets?

That I had told you all everything and I no longer had that "perfect" mask held up?

That was true.
Mostly.
I still got stuff I'm working on but the main things are out there. 

Since then I've realized I don't know how to function.
I don't know how to live in the moment. 

Or seize the day.

I don't know how to be okay with mistakes.

Or how to live my life in moderation and balance. 

And I don't know how to sustain "doing good" for more than 4 days in a row. 

Trust me, this has been the social experiment of the past year. 

My max is 4 days before I need to crash. 

How am I supposed to go on a mission like that?

The truth is- I know how to live behind the "perfect mask".

I know how to smile.

To make people believe me when I say, "I'm doing great!"

I know how to deflect questions and uplift those I talk to.
I am passionate about fixing the world and being a global citizen.
I wear my accomplishments with pride. 

I accept compliments with a thanks and a smile. 

I work hard to be a good example and be regarded as such.

I know how to believe and make others believe that I am this amazing person.

Then I write on this blog, confessing the things that I can't even get the courage to tell my parents face to face and people choose to call me brave. 

I don't feel very brave. 

In fact, I feel pretty broken. 

 I don't know how to accept less than perfection from myself. 

I am happy to cut others slack and allow them to struggle. 

I read all these articles on mental illness and try to help those I recognize the signs in. 

When it comes to everyone else I am a mental health advocate.

But when it comes to me, I don't deserve any coddling. 

I have to push through. 

I have to rise above. 

And not only do I have to overcome but I have to do it better than others. 

In case you haven't realized yet, my lifestyle is exhausting. 

That lifestyle is why I'm here.

Living at home at 21. 

Cause I couldn't keep up with my life.

It was too stressful, too hard, and for all intents and purposes I had a nervous breakdown.

Others last so much longer than me.
I've heard their stories. 

And I've heard some of your stories.

 I've discovered I'm not the only one who struggles with this. 

So as one perfectionist to another I want to encourage you to do something I am trying. 

Let the balls drop. 

Let go of whatever is stressing you out and not bringing you joy.

Let go of the food, netflix, or whatever it is you use to numb yourself. 

Let go of letting perfectionism run your life.

In 2017 I want you to prioritize your sanity. 

Because I am so tired. 

I am so tired of the crap. 

I am so tired of all the expectations I have put on myself.

And if you are a perfectionist like me I'm sure you feel that way too. 

So here is where I'm at. 

I'm going to meet with my family doctor this week. 

And maybe I go on meds for a while to manage this. 

I'm going to talk to a therapist about my issues. 

All of my issues. 

I've already ordered essential oils and am pursuing that as another form of healing. 

I have owned up to where I'm at with my family. 

And I am finally taking time to be broken. 

I want you to know I am still planning on going on a mission. 

And I love this quote and I believe it and live my life trusting it.

I am also trusting that God has given me time to heal and that time is now. 

So I am going to take a few months to do just that.

There is no better time to put your health first than today. 

And if you are broken too, lets own it. 

Let's make 2017 be a year of hope and healing for all of us. 

Love, Em

P.S. Listen to this song ;)

One Year

Hi Guys! 

Today is a pretty special anniversary for me.

Actually, it is one of the most exciting anniversaries of my life. 

One year ago today I received my endowments and went through the temple for the first time. 

December 30, 2015

The past week I have been reflecting a lot on what the past year has held. 

14 months ago I started my mission papers. 

13 months ago I said goodbye to SVU.

12 months ago I entered the temple.

11 months ago I submitted my mission papers. 

10 months ago I was waiting for a call. 

9 months ago I found out I would have to lose weight before I could go. 

7 months ago I quit sugar. 

6 months ago I started attending ARP.

4 months ago I relapsed and started eating sugar again. 

2 months ago I turned 21. 

1 month ago I published my latest blog post. 

A lot has happened this year. 

As I sat in the temple today I thought about who I was 1 year ago. 

Because I came home from SVU broken. 

But at the time I had no idea how rock-bottom wrecked I was. 

I was still pretending everything was fine. 

Honestly, it was months before I even told my parents I had failed that semester. 

I came home and I was all gung-ho mission. 

Mission. Mission. Mission. 

Because I thought my mission would fix me. 

Going on a mission won't fix you. 

Going on a mission will bring to light all the crazy you fought so hard to hide. 

Going on a mission will bring out the crazy.

I've mentioned my Kadee in this blog before right?

Literally. 

She is my kindred spirit. 

I left Virginia but she stayed for another semester before leaving on her mission.
And we would facetime multiple times a week.

Sometimes multiple times a day. 

Yes I did visit her on her mission. It was wonderful.

Anyways, I called her one day in April in complete tears. 

Like, this was maximum dramatics. 

And she told me to go on a walk and so we went on a walk together her and I. 

We got to the temple and I sat down on the lawn and I sobbed as I told her that I wasn't okay. 

I need you all to just picture this for a minute.
It was cold.
Not snow cold but like the snot dripping off my chin was probably turning into icicles. 

And I laid on the grass on the side of the temple.

Curled in the fetal position.
Protected by some trees so no one would see me and ask if I was okay. 

And I sobbed. 

But not only sobbed.
I sobbed into my phone so Kadee could hear my sobs.

All the tears. 

I had a headache for a day after I cried so much. 

It was pitiful. 

And she just listened to me.

As I told her that my life was a lie. 

That I couldn't fake it anymore. 

That I was so unhappy. 

That I didn't think there was hope.

And she listened. 

But most important, she promised there was hope. 

One more picture of her just cause I miss her every day.

In June I finally realized,

(and by finally it should be spelt how I intend it to sound which is fiiiiiiiinnaaaaaaaaaaaallllllyyyyyy)

I finally realized that I couldn't change without my Heavenly Father's help.

Like physically impossible.
Because I had spent years of my life trying to fix myself and being unable to.

But in June I asked for a blessing.
And in that blessing I was promised heaven's help in accomplishing what was previously impossible.

 I got a support group.

I quit sugar. 

And I started attending the Addiction Recovery Program. 

I screwed up a few times along the way. 

I don't attend ARP every week. 

I've ate a lot of sugar during Christmas break. 

And I haven't been progressing for a few weeks. 

But in December I look back on the past year. 

And I just need to thank God. 

Especially for the friendships made/strengthened this year.

Because right here, at this moment at the end of December, I have hope. 

I am no longer in denial. 

I am working to overcome my 10 year long eating disorder.

I am closer to going on a mission than I have been all year, or really, my entire life. 

And I know that in spite of all the trials, all the struggles and thanks to all the lessons learned, 

I am becoming the person my Heavenly Father wants me to be. 

Since I published my last blog post I have felt such peace. 

As I've recognized it and thought about why I realized something.
That was it.
There is no more secrets.

No more shame, no more guilt, no more hiding behind my "perfect" mask. 

Confession time is over. 

After years of pretending and faking it and working my hardest to make sure no one saw my struggles and my shame, in the past year I have shared it all with you. 

And now that it is out there I can move on. 

I can leave the past in the past. 

And I can focus on what is truly important:

Becoming Sister Atwood at last. 

Taking a Break

I am going to take a quick break from the Christlike Attributes challenge of December to update you on a few things going on in my life. 

First things first.
God is always teaching me lessons.

Always. 

And second.
I have not been feeling the desire to write. 

That is hard for me because things make sense when I write them down. 

And I have become used to writing by the spirit with this blog.
But that isn't there right now. 

I'm fixing the things in my life that need to be fixed.

And with this post I am walking in faith hoping that at some point the spirit guides me into saying what needs to be said. 

Sitting on the desk in front of me is a sticky note of all the topics I've been meaning to cover over the past few weeks.
The realizations I've had.
The tender mercies I've seen.
The progress I've made.

But none of those are what I am writing about today. 

I hope that I will be able to share those experiences with you at a later time.

Today however, I want to tell you about the worst time in my life. 

My last semester at school sucked. 

It was the worst time in my whole life. 

And what made it so terrible was how good things were. 

I was an RA which I loved. 

I adored the people I worked with, I had the best bosses ever, I loved my girls. 

It was Year 2 of being Director of Soccer Operations. 

And I walked in so confident. Coaching staff I adore. The team I love. And the sport just makes me so happy. I'm not a sportsy person but soccer just makes sense to me. 

I had chosen classes I knew I would love. 

Easy course load, only 12 credits, and all amazing professors. 

My best friends were all there with me.

And we had such good adventures that semester, plus I made so many new friends. 

I loved my ward.

Bishop Rodriguez was wonderful. I loved my Relief Society and even went to FHE. 

Which is rare for me.

But what it all boiled down to was that it was a recipe for success.

Looking back I can't see anything wrong with all of those pieces. 

Everything was perfect.

And oh, I see how this is all looping in and where it is going, trust me it is gonna be good. 

Guys, I am a perfectionist. 

And not in a cutesy good way where I have to double-check something before I turn it in. 

More in a, I can't start doing this project cause I have to have my house clean and everything done before I can start it so I can devote 110% to it and I have to have all the research done and everything and have to schedule out my time and follow it exactly so I can do this to the best of my abilities but oh wait I can't get all that done first cause I'm going to run out of time but I have to get it done first but I don't have time oh crap this project is due today and I haven't started and I am going to fail and my life is ruined and there is no way I can do a good job on it at this point so I'm just going to pretend I forgot about it and move on. 

I'm sure that was painful to read, but my thought processes don't have commas. 

My perfectionism isn't healthy. 

I have anxiety disorder and that is where this perfectionism comes from.

Let me break down how my brain works:

Failure isn't an option

If I fail no one will like me

Nobody likes me already because of x,y,z

But if I fail then they will hate me and I will be alone forever

Sad, lonely, life

I will be a cat lady and I'm allergic to cats

I'm going to live in my parent's basement my whole life

I am insane, the way I think is insane

I can never live a normal life if I am insane

So I can't fail

It would be better to die than fail

Before I continue with all the thoughts I gotta say let us pay attention to that last line. 

It would be better to die than fail. 

HOW MESSED UP IS THAT. 

Logically, I know that is totally insane. 

You learn from failing.
One can't be perfect all the time. 

Well, my brain struggles with that concept. 

It wants me to die when I am not living up to my "potential".

Whether it is letting depression take over and wanting to cut. 

Or wanting to just drive off a bridge or a cliff or etc...

Or my personal favourite, eat myself into a coma of sadness, shame and despair. 

And by personal favourite I mean that I hate that bingeing is my go-to.

As far back as I can remember I have always been this way. 

Things had to be done "just right" or else. 

I remember feeling crazy as like a six year old, and feeling like my life was out of my control. 

That is a repeating thought I have. 

My life is out of my control. 

Family, school, satan, God, church, friends.
I felt like everyone and everything had more control over my life than I did. 

But if I played my part perfect, maybe I would be given that control I craved. 

So I played perfect. 

I tried to get the best grades.
To do all the chores.

To be the best friend. 

I juggled all the things as best I could all day long. 

When I was done I would grab a book and raid the pantry. 

And stay up most of the night "recovering" from my day, only to do it again tomorrow. 

It was unsustainable. 

I hated my life. 

But I needed people to like me so I had to keep it up.

And no one who saw the perfect me saw the imperfect me. 

I kept those two as separate as I could. 

Senior year of High School that fell apart as I had like a hundred surgeries, and almost daily panic attacks from that whole situation.
But in the summer I pulled it together before I went to school in Virginia.
In all honesty, I should have let myself fall apart then. 

Cause when I got to Virginia I lived in a room with two other girls.
Girls I had classes with and shared soccer with.

Girls who saw the best of me, but also the worst.

No matter how hard I tried to hide it.

I would skip out of activities with my friends so I could binge. 

I skipped church so I could binge.

I skipped class so I could binge. 

It was impossible to be "perfect" all the time so I took every opportunity to "heal" so I could resume my fight for perfection. 

Reading over this I sound insane.
Like lock me up in rehab insane. 

But you have to understand that this all felt logical in my head.

I had thought like this for so long I couldn't see anything wrong with it. 

This all continued throughout my freshman year. 

I gained weight but I was keeping the crazy mostly under control. 

I came home for the summer and struggled.

I was beginning to realize my life was unfulfilling and unsustainable.

But I wasn't ready to change yet. 

I knew, however, that I couldn't hide in Virginia.
Who I wanted to be couldn't binge like I did and still do all I wanted to do. 

And I was unprepared to deal with that. 

But I went back to school. 

And my life fell apart. 

Cliff note version is that I:
Skipped school often.

Skipped church often.

Avoided hanging with my friends.

Stopped enjoying soccer and skipped when I could.

Binged for three months straight in what can only be described as a hellhole.

I could no longer be perfect.

And I completely gave up. 

I gained an atrocious amount of weight. 

And hit rock bottom. 

And do you know who was there?

God.

Let's just pause here.
Just pause and take a breather.
Cause this has been such an intense post.
Literally, you have seen into my brain and my heart and my soul.
I have just shown you my greatest struggles and inadequacies.
So just pause.


This is what my cat would look like in my cat lady life.

Please tell me you've taken a good breather just to process things.
Now let's go back to the point where I found God.
I've always known of God.
As a child I asked God for a miracle so I would know He was there.
As a depressed overweight sad teenager I cried out to God to just kill me cause I was so miserable.
As I grew older I prayed to Him with a full heart because there was so much need I saw around me.
In my best moments I thanked Him profusely for all He had given me.
But it wasn't until I was 20 years old suffering in my own private hell that I met Him.
When I talked to Him and I listened for His answers.
And found He had always been talking to me.
I just had so rarely listened.

Now I want you to listen to this song.
Just sit and listen, then keep reading.

Matthew West speaks to my soul. 

God was there for me. 

At my worst the Atonement was available.

And my Saviour's hand was outstretched towards me. 

I just had to grab on. 

It has been over a year since I started my papers. 

And in this year I have been so blessed.

I have felt God's love. 

And I have been healed. 

Not completely. I still struggle daily. But I am not alone.
After years of feeling so alone, I now know He is always there.
And always has been.
I don't strive for control over everything, I am trying to just let God have the reins.
And I am learning to embrace imperfection. 

This past year has been the greatest gift God has given me. 

Time to heal.

Time to change. 

Time to become His. 

I pray you all take the opportunities given you to change if you need to. 

And to reach out to your Saviour's waiting hands.
He is there. 

Love, Em

Life Sucks...

Dear Readers,

Life sucks. 

It is so hard. 

It is hard to do what is right.

It is hard to make good choices.

It is hard to prepare to serve a mission. 

All my missionary friends told me that as you get closer to serving a mission, life gets harder. 

You are tempted more than ever before. 

Things fall apart.
Distractions pop up. 

The struggle is so very real. 

And it sucks. 

I remember when these friends were struggling with their own issues prior to leaving.

I was so confused.

"Read your scriptures more," I said naively.

"Just go to the temple every spare moment," I would suggest.

"Pray for heaven's help," I implored. 

And they would smile and say thanks for the advice.

But really, I know now what they were thinking, because it is what I am thinking these days. 

Which is that it is not that easy. 

You do all the things you are supposed to do.

But it is still hard. 

And nobody prepared me for that moment.

The moment when you realize, that although you are doing all that you are supposed to, it's still hard. 

I didn't know. 

Dear readers, the struggle is real. 

Now, are you thoroughly burdened down by the despair of how hard life is?

Good. 

Because from that place you can feel the light that the rest of this post will bring. 

God loves me. 

God loves you.

God loves us in spite of our sins.
He loves us in spite of our willful disobedience.
He loves us when we are stubborn.

He loves us when we make dumb choices.

He loves us when we mess everything up.

Unconditional love= He loves us no matter what.

And God sent us His son.

His loving, perfect son who endured agonies beyond comprehension for us. 

Who suffered and bled so that we could be saved.

Our Savior and Redeemer Jesus Christ. 

And life is hard.

But it wasn't meant to be an easy road.
We are here to struggle, to face challenges, to fight for what is right and to be challenged. 

Sometimes we feel like we are the worst sinner ever. 

Like nobody else's struggles even compare to ours because we are drowning in our trials. 

That we will never make it over the mountain ahead of us.
And that we are doomed to fail. 

I've felt that way before. 

There still are days when I feel that way. 

Sometimes I feel utterly hopeless. 

But, 

God didn't design us to fail. 

So, take a final piece of advice from the beloved President Gordon B. Hinckley, 

And remember,

I believe in you.
I know it is hard.
But heaven is cheering you on.
God loves you. 

Jesus Christ loves you. 

And you will survive this.

Love, Em

Hello Healing

Step 2: Hope

In the Addiction Recovery Program step 2 is HOPE.

The Key Principle is to come to believe that the power of God can restore you to complete spiritual health. 

Now I don't know about you, but for me I 100% believe that the power of God can restore you to complete spiritual health.
But believing that He can restore me is a different story.

It is so easy to believe that He will heal others but not us. 

Sometimes I feel like I am just the worst person and no way God wants to help me.

He may love me but I am beyond helping. 

Anybody else ever feel that way?

But Step 2 asks us to turn to God and find hope in the Atonement of Jesus Christ. 

No matter what you've done or where you've been.
He isn't saying if A, B or C are your sins I will help you, but D and E, sorry you are beyond help.

That isn't how the Atonement works. 

One of the coolest moments for me was when I first went to ARP. 

I knew I needed to be there, but I still wasn't sure about going. 

However, I walked in and the Spirit was so strong.

This group of people who were all sinners like me because they were there, were surrounded by this overpowering spirit. 

And they were smiling and chatting. 

That wasn't the image I had in my head of what it would be like. 

But they had hope.
They trusted.
They knew the process worked and so they were there. 

In the ARP Manual it shares a quote from Boyd K. Packer from the October 1995 General Conference where he said that if we turned to the Lord, "no habit, no addiction, no rebellion, no transgression, no offense exempted from the promise of complete forgiveness."

Whoa.

Now for me I always had hope.
Since the beginning of this I knew Heavenly Father could heal me.
I knew the Atonement could help me. 

But while I had hope I struggled with truly trusting it would happen. 

However I learned many things from this chapter, the most important being that the foundation of recovery from addiction must be spiritual.  

A main point of this lesson on hope is tender mercies. 

I LOVE TENDER MERCIES.

They are those moments where something simple happens, that reminds you that Heavenly Father is aware of you and watching out for you. 

Thinking about tender mercies I am reminded of my senior year of High School.
I had to have a bunch of surgeries and I was feeling pretty bad about life at this time. 

I was missing school, I was missing my friends, I was missing everyone asking each other to grad, I was missing EVERYTHING. 

And the surgeries weren't even working.
It sucked. 

Following one of these surgeries someone brought me a vase of flowers, and in the middle of these flowers was a giant yellow Chrysanthemum. 

I put the flowers in my windowsill and never watered them. 

Plus I live in a basement so they weren't getting a lot of light.
These poor flowers had to chill with me as I laid in my bed, day after day, feeling miserable about my life. 

One day I walked into my room and noticed that all the flowers had died. 

(This is the flowers in question)

Well, all the flowers except for the Chrysanthemum. 

And because I was lazy and sad I didn't throw away the dead flowers, I just let them sit there.

For months.

And this Chrysanthemum WOULDN'T DIE.

I wanted it to die.
It had to be so dang cheerful every single day while I was miserable. 

But then after about two months of this I looked at it the chrysanthemum and realized something.
This cheery little flower was a blessing.

Even though I felt everything was going wrong, this flower just kept living.
It refused to quit on me.

Just like my Heavenly Father. 

#tendermercy

"Some individuals...erroneously may discount or dismiss in their personal lives the availability of the tender mercies of the Lord... We may falsely think that such blessings and gifts are reserved for other people who appear to be more righteous or who serve in visible Church callings. I testify that the tender mercies of the Lord are available to all of us and that the Redeemer of Israel is eager to bestow such gifts upon us."

You will see the tender mercies of the Lord in your life as you learn to watch for them and as you come to believe that the power of God can indeed help you recover.

I have a testimony of this. 

I struggle often.
I am a sinner.
But I just keep trying. 

I trust my Heavenly Father and I know He loves me.

I know He wants the best for me and the best for you too. 

So let us all strive for hope.

Love, Em

Preaching to the Choir

Now I am not the person to be delivering this message.

I watch some R-rated movies.

I binge-watch shows on Netflix.

My standards when it comes to media are not where they should be.

And I know that. 

But at the same time I also am a fan of church movies.

I can pretty much quote every Liken the Scriptures movie.

I cry a ridiculous amount in the 17 Miracles movie (and every other pioneer movie for that matter)

And when I was a kid, Summer Naomi Smart was goals. 

So as someone who has seen both sides. 

Who really struggles with living in the world but not being of the world. 

I have a message to all future missionaries.

And this message is seriously humbling for me, don't think it isn't.

I have watched lots of friends prepare for missions. 

Each has a different way of doing things.

Different priorities before they leave. 

But one thing I have seen time and time again is that Satan is tempting them more than ever before. 

From the moment you decide to go on a mission the forces of hell are fighting against you. 

Cause you got lots of good to do my friends. 

And obviously, the forces of darkness don't want all that good to happen.
They are gonna pull out all the stops to stop you.

Now let me think...

If you are someone who is a good person.

(Obviously you are, you're spending your time reading mission blogs)

Someone who is trying to do what is right.

Satan isn't going to tempt you to get wasted.

Maybe he will, if that is something you struggle with. 

But he is typically going to go for the smaller things, to keep you from preparing and being ready. 

He is going to try and distract you. 

Hello Netflix. 

Hello Tumblr. 

Hello the whole public library.

Hello anything that distracts you. 

Anything that doesn't bring the spirit. 

Anything that will keep you from focusing on what matters most.

#goodbetterbest

At this moment I would like to raise my hand as one who is guilty.

So very, very guilty. 

Not gonna say which show I binge-watched on Netflix this weekend but I can promise it didn't bring the same spirit that Conference did. 

So.

When distractions come along.

When you are being sorely tempted.

When the devil sends forth his mighty winds. 

Yea, his shafts in the whirlwind. 

When all his hail, 

And his mighty storm shall beat upon you, 

What are you going to do?

#helaman5:12

You are planted in good soil.
You have a sturdy foundation.
But are you going to bend?

Right here and right now I am encouraging you to stand tall in the face of the storm. 

I believe in you.
And our Heavenly Father does too.

-Em

Marriage vs. Mission

Just by the title you know that this post is going to be a doozy. 

My apologies.

I've written before about how I have planned on going on a mission my entire life.

Forever.

Both my parents are RMs and I honestly didn't know until I was maybe 9 that everyone didn't serve missions. 

I thought both guys and girls served missions before they got married. 

Consequently, I harbored some resentment against those who chose to get married instead of going on a mission. 

I just didn't understand.

There was your whole life to get married, plus eternity after that, so why not serve a mission first?

My mother got married at 23 and she is my hero, so that seemed like the perfect age. 

All these women getting married younger than that, well that is just crazy!

(My super cute parents in 1992)

Obviously, I had some stuff to figure out about life. 

In high school I remember going to wedding receptions of people not that much older than me and being very weirded out by the whole thing. 

And in university when girls on my team or in my classes were getting engaged, well that was weird too. 

For someone who never had a boyfriend the idea that people my age were ready for marriage was like a system overload. 

It didn't compute.

(That was really nerdy, but I just picture a little robot in my head crashing into things with smoke coming out of its brain when couples get married young)

Then one of my best friends got engaged. 

And I was at home, not at school and so I missed the whole "them dating and falling in love" part. 

But this girl, she is the wisest person in my squad, and so if she was ready for marriage than she was ready for marriage and I trusted that. 

(Aren't they just the sweetest?)

Her engagement and subsequent marriage got me thinking.

Thinking about my squad and my friends.

Because this was the start of my close friends getting married. 

At 20 years old this was the beginning of the end. 

Soon our adventures would all include our husbands and our children. 

It could never go back to the way it was. 

(That all sounds really dramatic but that is where my head was for a while)

And Heavenly Father, 

Oh, my loving Heavenly Father who knows my heart. 

Who is very aware of the aforementioned thoughts and feelings I had.

Who gives us opportunities to grow whether we want to or not...

*Sigh*

Recently, I had an interesting experience. 

Where I felt the spirit prompting me towards a young man I am acquainted with. 

And that threw me for a loop.

Without going into details. 

Without mentioning names. 

Without divulging anything that you don't need to know.

I was having a trial of faith over this. 

That sounds so dramatic. 

All of this sounds so dramatic.

But really, it was this life-changing moment where all of a sudden,

Up was Down.

Left was Right. 

And I didn't know if I was supposed to be preparing for mission or marriage.

(Full disclosure: I hadn't even gone on a date with aforementioned young man)

BUT STILL!

I was questioning everything. 

Why would I feel this prompting when Heavenly Father KNEW I was going on a mission?

Him and I had TALKED about this! 

I was going on a mission.
It had been the plan for years. 

So why was He now changing the plan?

I began to feel that my preparations to go on a mission were taking too long.
I had missed my chance.

The people I needed to teach had already been taught by some sisters way more prepared than I.

And so I might as well skip the mission and just get married. 

(Seriously, I know how screwed up that thinking is, reading it over now I don't even want you to read it, because I am so embarrassed by it. I'm sorry.)

And so, when facing a trial of faith such as this, do you know what I did?

I started praying.
More often.

More earnestly. 

With more determination for an answer than ever. 

Because I was so very confused. 

I looked at how to transfer from my school in Virginia to his school. 

I thought long and hard about how to come to grips with not serving a mission.

I read the scriptures and every talk I could find on dating and marriage.

And I worked on my Pinterest account (the most crucial part of course).

But most important of all, I moved forward in faith.

If this is what Heavenly Father wanted me to do than okay. 

I would change my plans. 

In this time I had so many heart to hearts with my Father in Heaven. 

I would just walk and talk to Him as if He was standing right next to me. 

After weeks of asking and praying and searching for guidance I felt peace about continuing my preparation to serve a mission. 

And it didn't feel like there was this huge weight off my shoulders. 

Or that all my dreams were coming true. 

 I had accepted Heavenly Father's will, no matter what it was, and when the answer came I was prepared to receive it. 

So to all my friends who are married/getting married at a young age, you do you. 

As long as you are doing Heavenly Father's will kudos to you. 

And it is hard choosing between two good things. 

Mission vs. Marriage

But that mission versus marriage thing is dumb anyways.

Go on a mission then get married.
Get married then go on a mission.
Let your mission be your marriage. 

God will use you to further the work in whatever way He sees fit. 

Our job is just to be worthy of being His servants.

And I believe in you. 

Love, Em