forgive yourself MORE.

When the first important, meaningful relationship I'd ever been in ended I had no idea what to do. I knew it was coming. I could feel myself drawing back and I could feel us growing apart. At first it was nothing he did. In the years we'd been together I'd changed. I'd grown. And somehow I needed to get out and find myself.

The week before we broke up we spent in Mexico at my favorite place. I spent it disconnected from everything. In the middle of the desert you have nothing to do but examine your life. I was supposed to be opening myself up to new adventures, but I was falling apart at the seams.

Back in high school I would pray every single night that if God would just let this guy return his feelings for me that I would never hurt him. I would never break his heart. This isn't even a slight exaggeration. I spent countless nights bargaining with Him to please let me have a shot at this relationship. But here I was, years later wondering what had happened. I wanted to love him. I wanted with every ounce of my body to be happy with the relationship. Because I felt as though God answered that prayer, and what if he was my only shot? But something in me had withdrawn itself and I knew no other way to deal. I knew I couldn’t stay.

I told him my feelings in seconds after getting angry at an insignificant event. I was petrified. I thought if I could just get away from the situation it would be fine. But when I cut things off I was so scared. I was unable to function. I don't think I stopped crying for 24 hours. And he didn’t care. He agreed, he couldn’t forgive me, he didn’t want me back, he didn’t care.

I will never forget my mom at my house a few days later trying to comfort me and pull me together, telling me that I should try cutting the grass, and maybe that would make me feel better. (God knows why?) And so balling my eyes out I pushed (or more collapsed on) the push-lawnmower across the front yard. Looking back now it was probably a hilarious sight.

I went about my break-up in quite possible the worst way a human being can do so. Like a coward, I fled my hometown. I went to San Diego where I drank myself under a table. I made horrible, poor choices. I tried to run. write. drink. anything it all way. Ashamed? You bet.

I spent a month making an even bigger mess of my life. I then was even more devastated- realizing that I was even worse alone than I was in my relationship. I couldn't function in the relationship and I couldn't be by myself. I wanted to grow closer to God, single, but that was not happening.

I went back and forth for months. I'd move on. Then find myself comparing someone to him. And nobody was him. They talked too much. They expected too much out of me emotionally. They didn't smell the way he did. Everything they did was wrong. Of course in reality, one or two of these guys was doing everything that would normally be right in a relationship. But in my chaos the last thing I was capable of was building a relationship.

So for months it went like this: Meet a new guy. Go on a few dates with them. Realize I don't care about them the way I should. Go back to my trying to be single. Find myself dissatisfied. It was awful. I couldn't get it right.

It almost became a form of self-hate. I cannot express in words the guilt that ate away at me. For months I could still cry about it. I would hear about him from someone or randomly cross paths with him and felt this ache. Or he would find some malicious way to hurt me. I could not find a way to make it right and I could not find a way to connect with anyone else. I was in limbo.

It took a long time for me to realize that the solution was not going to be found in him or another person. I had simply changed. Something in me had transformed and this perpetual cycle I was in was only making it worse. I'd lowered my standards of dating just because I couldn't be alone. I came across some real, sorry if you still read this, buttheads.

Almost a year it took me. I still was not where I wanted to be.

It took months to realize I was searching for something in everyone but myself. So I knew I needed to reconnect with myself. So like I do, I spent my July at an incredible orphanage filled with children I love. I finally repaired the damage I caused to myself post-break. Maybe one day with him. But for now this is enough. I engaged myself in life: I surfed. I ran daily. I would devotion and pray on the front porch. I played soccer. I let people into my home. I attended a wedding. I took too many pictures. I met new people. I swam. I feel in love with Jesus again and a little girl named Jeidy.

I returned home. And like anybody, I fell back into the daily patterns. But for the most part I’ve made it a point to focus everything from summer on about bettering myself and my future. I refused to carry any of the pain beyond that time which was far too long to feel guilt.

I finally found a way to forgive myself. And I found that to be a huge theme in my summer. Forgiving yourself. Giving yourself some grace. Because I went through hell and back. And I think sometimes we need to just let go and cut ourselves some slack. I didn't know my life was going to change so drastically from 16 to 21. But it does. That is life. And I am so thankful that I got that shot at the relationship. Maybe it didn't end the way I once wanted it to. But some day I am going to look back on this process and realize that it was preparing me for something greater. It was a small stepping stone to loving myself, by myself. It sent me on a journey. And it may have taken an unnecessarily long amount of time, but I am happy. And as the quote goes "Happiness is a hard freaking road".

To sum it up: Forgive yourself more.

Maybe that’s more important than forgiving him. Maybe it’s more important than knowing he has forgiven you. No, not maybe, I am sure it is.