Two-Four

I turned 24 years old last week and did not take one picture to commemorate it. Not one! Sorry mom! I guess my lack of indulgent birthday selfies is probably a sign I'm mature or something. Instead, here are some pictures of my visit to Duke campus in Durham, North Carolina where I survived the humidity and was schooled in the art of authentic Carolina BBQ (nothing will ever be the same).

I rang in my 24th year just about the same way I spent the actual day I was born: by sleeping 70% of the day and eating throughout the remaining 30%. I have some really great friends who threw me not one, but TWO birthday celebrations, and the next day was spent shopping with myself, for myself. I justified my excessive spending all because 24 years ago I passively let myself be born while my mom did all the work. Obviously that warrants a new outfit, right? Right.

Overall, turning 24: 10/10, would recommend.

However, I'd be lying if I said this birthday came without a tinge of sadness. Dread, even. A sense of betrayal to my 14-year-old self who was really banking on this past decade to get it all figured out. In a lot of ways, I feel like I've accomplished nothing but let that girl down.

The truth is, my life at 24 is nothing like how I had imagined it would be. I have this very specific memory of being 14-years-old and envisioning my life ten years into the future: I would be married; I would have the career I always wanted; I would have more than I do and be more than I am, and most of all, I wouldn't be scared.

At 14, the only thing I really wanted was security. At 24, I have learned enough about the unpredictability of life to understand that true security, for the most part, does not exist.

But in the past decade, I've learned that what does exist is faith--faith in God, and faith in yourself, and faith in the fact that despite all your meticulously crafted plans, you are part of something bigger. I might venture to say, you are part of something even better.

So yes, it's true. I am a failure to my 14-year-old counterpart. But for the 24-year-old me, I am exactly where I'm supposed to be. And I think that's something to celebrate.


xo,
Lo

A quick PSA

*photos by emma vidmar photography

I just want you to know that your worth is eternal.

Your worth is not dependent on the clothes you wear, the clothes you don't wear, the amount of fabric you wear to the pool, or the amount of spandex in your pants. Your worth is not defined by how many hoots and hollers you get on the street, or how ugly you feel when you don't wear make-up, or how many people you've kissed, or how many sins you've committed, or any other arbitrary statistic you keep track of in the back of your head. Your worth cannot be stolen, destroyed, lost, or lessened by any one person on earth or in heaven. Not even yourself.

No matter who you think you are, or what you wear, or what you do, you are always deserving of the respect of others. You are always worth it.

xo,
Lo

on love.

I used to think that love was this elusive thing, like February 29th or Halley's Comet, that would travel through your hemisphere only once in a blue moon, and you were lucky if, and only if, you were able to catch it as it flew by. This notion stuck with me throughout most of my young life--through the YA romance novels, the Nicholas Sparks movies, the Pablo Nerudas, the sappy/sad songs, and especially the "can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, World Series" kinda stuff.

But then one day I fell in love. And everything I had previously thought seemed to be completely validated. 

It was passionate, and dizzying, and exciting, and fun and just about everything else you'd ever expect from falling in love for the first time. For a while, this person was the glue that was holding me together, until all of the sudden, he wasn't. And when I fell apart, so did the very foundation of the thing I had always believed to be "love."

Piecing your life back together after something like this is no easy task. However inconsequential and small it may seem in the grand scheme of things, heartbreak is a real, physical type of pain that manifests itself by twisting your stomach into all kinds of knots, and bringing out the ugliest of insecurities. And man, it just hurts. But what I've learned is that if you can get through it--not over it, but through it--there is a wholeness waiting for you on the other side. This wholeness is best described, and I say this in the most non-cheesy and un-ironic way possible, as true love. Real love, even. It's the type of love that makes you confident in the person you are, independent of other people. The type of love that keeps you from feeling lonely, even when you're alone. You can find it in the love of your friends, and your family, and your God, and the world around you, and most importantly, you find it in yourself.

This past Valentine's Day weekend was a gentle reminder that love is no longer an elusive thing to me. It's not something you have to spend your whole life searching for, nor is it a game of cat and mouse. Love is simply always there. It's in those quiet moments, watching a VHS copy of Maverick in a dingy cabin in rural Southern Colorado with some of your best friends. It's in those late night talks, those heated games of Settlers of Catan, those blissful drives, blasting your "girl power" playlist with the windows rolled down--it's there. All you have to do is recognize it.

The universe owes you absolutely nothing, yet, in any circumstance, there is always goodness to be found.

If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

xo
Lo

You'll never guess what this blogger did after 2 months of not blogging...

That's right. She blogged.

Now that I've reeled you in in the best way I know how (attention-grabbing, open ended statement followed by completely underwhelming response), you'll notice that I've finally decided to actually write a blog post again. This new development comes after two solid months of neglecting my poor laptop, which hardly ever gets used anymore because of the following reasons:

a) I got a real-person job--complete with swivel chairs, a desktop computer, office gossip, and an entire break room full of treats--which eliminates my need to work from home.

b) Every time I use my laptop, it does that thing where it heats up really fast and starts making a sound like it's about to launch itself into outer space.

c) I am now the proud owner of an iPad. I'm one of those "iPad people" now.

But once I realized that none of those things are good enough excuses to walk away from this space that I love so much, and also because my mom uses this blog to make sure I'm still alive, I've decided to come crawling back and beg you to love me again.

Let me get real with you for a second, though. I have had a difficult time blogging for the past few years--not because of a lack of time, but because I worry that I've pigeonholed myself so far into this space to the point where I don't always feel like this is a platform where I can talk about things that matter to me most and affect me the deepest. As much as I love fashion, I don't feel like I ever wanted this to be purely a "fashion blog" because, while personal style is fun and yes, I believe it's important, it's not everything.

Moving forward into this new year (yeah middle of February that works too), I want this blog to be a source of inspiration in all aspects of life--whether that be fashion, beauty, art, relationships, careers, things, stuff, etc. (Did my blog just become Seventeen Magazine for twenty-somethings? Yes. Yes it did). You see, most of the time, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. This season of life is so scary, and frustrating, and exciting, and good--basically everything Taylor Swift says it is, and I know a lot of you are experiencing the same thing. So how about we create a space where we can talk about it? I don't know exactly what that means yet, but maybe you can help me figure it out.

All I'm saying is that you better buckle-freaking-up because you're going to hear a lot more from me. But at the same time, I want to hear from you as well. If there's anything that you want to see more of on this blog, a submission for a guest post, a question for advice, or just something important that you want me to address here, let me know! Comment, email me, snapchat me, skywrite me, actually write me (pen pals, anyone?). I don't care, just get ahold of me and let's chat!

awkwardgirls2@gmail.com

I love you all, I really do. I hope I didn't make this weird. But if I did, I at least hope it was the good kind of weird.

xo
Lo

Life lessons from my high school diary.

On Family:

"I need to be less rude to my parents. It's my worst habit. Other than not wearing my retainer."

On Vocabulary:

"It's an analogy. Have you ever noticed there's the word anal in that?"

On Responsibility:

"So I got this 50 dollar bill today, and at some point I got up and left it sitting on the table. Mom and Cindy decided to teach me a 'responsibility lesson' by hiding it from me. When I finally found it, I went back downstairs and like an hour later I realized I didn't have the money. So I start frantically searching for it and freaking out. Then Cindy comes up to me, reaches in my shirt, and pulls the bill out of my bra. I put it there after I lost it the first time so I wouldn't lose it again. I feel like such an idiot."

On Education:

"High school is just a big fat suffering contest."

On Spelling:

"Definately [sic]."

On Priorities:

"What's something I want to be remembered for when I die? That I had good taste in music."

On Friendship:

"I want to slap her every time she talks about him. Which is all the time"

On Setting Goals:

"Well I'm crossing my fingers and hoping I don't screw this up!" (October 21, 2007)

"So I may have screwed this up." (October 23, 2007)

On Dating:

"Never kiss a guy who, at any point in his life, has had a mullet and/or rattail."

On Humility:

"Sometimes I wish I could be really selfish. Because people who are selfish always get exactly what they want, and they don't even feel bad about it. Haha. Sucks to be such a good person."

Landmarks

There's a certain point on University Parkway in Provo that inclines just enough that you can see the entirety of the city in one incredible view. It only last for a couple seconds, but in that minuscule span of time you can see everything from spire of the Provo temple to BYU's Kimball Tower. You can see everything from Y mountain, even down to the giant windmills of Spanish Fork canyon. On my drive home the other night, as I passed that familiar point for the 10,000th time, I realized that among the landmarks that make this city what it is are the landmarks that make me who I am. In the past 5 years, I've grown into this city, but even more so, this city and all the little bits that are encompassed by it have grown into me.

It was here that I gained an education, both inside the classroom, and out. It was here that I met some of the greatest people on this good earth and was given the privilege of calling them my best friends. It was here that I discovered and rediscovered my passions and strengths and the difference I could make in other people's lives through my talents. It was here that I had trials of faith, felt the crippling defeat of self-doubt, the sting of heartbreak, and the triumph of learning to love myself. It was here that I gained a real and true testimony of God as I have repeatedly seen His hand work miracles in my life and those around me. In my 5 years here, I have cried, I have laughed, I have loved, and I have lost. But more than anything, I have learned.

For all these things, I am grateful. I am grateful for my education, which I understand is a privilege not afforded to many. I am grateful for the experiences it has brought me, both good and bad, that have shaped me into the person I've become. Most of all, I am grateful for the sacrifices of others that allowed me the wonderful opportunity to attend Brigham Young University. As I pass this landmark in my life, I am absolutely terrified and exhilarated as I face an uncertain future. My schooling may be done, but my education doesn't end here. I'll always be a student at heart.

xoxo
Lo

Rivers and Roads

sweater: thrifted
skirt: f21 (similar)
boots: c/o shoe carnival
necklace: c/o mindy mae's market

Disclaimer: Brace yourself for an insurgence of nostalgia on my blog for the next couple of days. It might be best if we just sing along to this song and cry a little bit together. Is that okay?

I've said too many goodbyes this week. I've experienced a hefty amount of lasts. I've closed a good chapter or two. Some of these things have been a little more reluctant than others. Though I have a lot of faith in the decisions I have made and the direction I'm going, I can't help but look back every once in a while and hold tiny funerals in my heart for the people I've been and the lives I've lived in the past.

I'm a strong believer in moving forward, but today I can be sad. Today I can mourn for the people and things and lives I have left behind along the way. Today I can miss them.

xo
Lo