Why Dating Relationships Scare Me

Suddenly, my future seems a lot scarier.

Honestly, a few months before, I remember thinking "Ah... yes. There's no concrete road for my future, but I'm OK with that. Life will take me where ever I want and it will be a fun adventure!" The possibilities seemed endless and I was ready to hone my skills as an artist and designer, save up money for traveling, and get in shape for new adventures. I was pretty content, struggling with some things, but feeling good about my future at least. I began envisioning myself as the carefree photographer and hiker that was going to finally visit all the places she wanted to go, eat the food she had always wanted to eat, meet new people, read books, discuss religion, culture, and philosophy with others, listen to old men in the park playing chess talk about their lives, hike to the tops of mountains and bask in the great views, eventually get a dog and take it with me where ever I went, and just hang out with whoever I felt like it in the moment. I didn't have a plan on how to make it all happen, but I was excited for all the adventures.

Then he showed up.

And by "he", I mean, my boyfriend.

Suddenly, all my adventures and visions of a carefree single life slipped away and I was left with throwing someone else's plans into the mix of life. And with this, a wave of issues, scars, insecurities, and fears appeared that I had never realized were there before. Fears of rejection, trust issues, past heart aches rose to the surface like a tidal wave and I was sitting there, going "What the heck is going on?"

While I probably could write a novel about the whole process thus far, including my fears, multiple discussions with people, many conversations with my boyfriend, epiphanies on my end, prayers lifted up to God, lots of thinking, too much analyzing, and just... SO MUCH, I'll summarize it in this quick conversation that I had with my mother about the whole thing. After I vented all my woes and worries, exasperating the topic to no end, and simply saying at last, "Oh Mom, I don't know. I just don't know." She simply said:

"It sounds like to me that you want a guarantee that it's all going to work out. And sorry to say honey, but life doesn't work out like that."

And with that, I shut my mouth, sighed and said, "Yeah..... dang it."

And I even had to admit that while my single, independent life sounded fantastic, that doesn't mean it would all work out either. I have no guarantees in life in general, whether I'm single, dating, married, working, in school, in another country, etc. All I have is God and his promises.

Am I still terrified? Ha. You bet I am. But as some of my close friends have put it, they have said, "Well, I would rather love and be hurt than to not experience those emotions at all. Yeah, it's a risk, but it's a risk worth taking." My desire for adventures and see great things stills exist, but I'm experiencing a new adventure in a relationship. It's a different kind of thrill than hiking to the top of a mountain and seeing an incredible view; it's one where your heart races when you hold hands for the first time or a smile escapes you after they try to cheer you up after a rough week. And when someone comments on my goofy happy smile when I talk about him, or I don't want his hugs to ever end, you get to a point of "Well, I guess I'm already pretty far deep into this adventure. Might as well see where it takes me."

My future seems a lot scarier, but each day, I take a step towards it, knowing the risk may be high, but I don't want to lose out on this adventure.

Trust Yourself

"Can I really do this?"

That's the one thought that keeps running through my mind, and it has been for the past year.

Can I really be a graphic designer?
Can I really be a photographer?
Can I support myself financially?
Can I stay friends with this person?
Can I live with this person?
Can I really be in a relationship with this person?
Can I really stay committed and true to my faith?

Can I really do any of this?

And for each question, my automatic response was "No". There's no way. I'm human and have limits. I have so many weak moments that I'm amazed I can get up and go through the day like I do. My talents and skills are limited and can only take me so far. Remember all those better designers and photographers? They can do it much better than me. Remember all those people who you have lived with and quarreled with? Remember all those failed relationships? Who's to say these will be any better? I'm definitely not good enough. And even if I am, then...  who..... who am I? Who am I to even take that position? Or be in that relationship? or be in the spot light? Who am I?

That right there is called: shame.

Part of me would tell myself "this is what it means to be humble": to not think you are greater than you really are; to not come across as cocky; to not think you are right all the time; and to not think that you actually have earned any sort of privilege at all.

But as I was mulling things over the other day, I realized that this isn't me being humble at all; humility is about not thinking of oneself. What humility is NOT is: beating oneself down into a pit that can't be crawled out of; to put yourself down all the time; and to hide in fear. By saying to myself "Who am I?", I instantly hindered myself from doing anything at all. I place myself in a land of fear and doubt, and scrape away any worth that I do have.

As I was mulling this over; I kept digging the pit digger and digger. "Can I really do this? No I can't. So many other people have failed. And what about me? Oh, I have so many weak moments. What if I do this? Or... I've definitely done this before. Surely, I can't really do this." The anxiety rose, dread began to engulf me, and I sat down at the bottom of my dark and dirty pit only staring at the ground, seeing no way out.

And that's when a little light broke through and I heard myself say, "Yeah, but what about you and your art? What about all the things you have done right? All the things you have pushed through? What about those moments? Those aren't from a weak willed spirit. Those are from the determined, strong, and loyal person that you are." And suddenly, I looked up from the bottom of the pit and began climbing out.

Memories began to flood my mind and I grasped onto them, like one who grabs the single line of golden rope he/she has to climb to get out of a hole.

Memories of struggling through art and photography, but still pushing myself to get better at it and not give up. Memories of endless drills, running, coaches yelling, and extra practices when I did sports. Sweating till I was drenched and breathless to the point of hyperventilating  but never wanting to give up. Memories of pulling all nighters at school, with constant revising over and over again, just to get the project nearly perfect. Times where I got down on my knees, with tears in my eyes, begging for forgiveness where I knew I had done wrong. And times where I stood up as everyone kept sitting down, and said, "I will not back down."

And then...

A memory of my mother looking at me when I was 16 and saying, "Hannah, you are quite capable. You're very smart and can probably take anyone down; just be careful on how you use that power; always aim to be the better person. You can do it." and I stood there dumbstruck, thinking, "Does.... she believe in me?" And from that moment on, I always went to my mom for advice and knew she loved me. I knew she would see me when I couldn't see myself.

And perhaps that's where I need to start directing my thoughts. I need to start believing in myself; believing that I am capable of things and have the ability to become the person who I want to be. Focused on the things I want to stand for and not how I may fail at them. I don't do anyone good by constantly doubting myself. Yes, I will have weak moments and still doubt, but now, I will try and not to focus on that (easier said than done) and try to believe and trust in myself. Believe and trust the person that God is creating me to be. Because really, it's not about me. It's about all the things I want to do and the principals I want to stand for. It's about what God can do through me, and if I live in fear and put myself down, then I'm putting down His abilities and work in me.

The question then changes from "Can I really do this?" to a "It doesn't matter. This is what I want to do." Here goes nothing.

Memories

The lights of the city and cars dance before my eyes. Soothing music comes out of the car speakers, matching the wearied travelers' mood as they yearn for rest and peace after a long day. And then I turn to my companion, who has fallen asleep, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as I drive along: he's my younger brother and I smile.

I realize I have to take in these moments and hold them dear. As I get older, I realize car adventures with my brother become fewer and fewer. He and I have begun to lead our own lives and drive our own cars; where before, I had to drive him everywhere and we were often buddies on the road, talking about our lives, singing to songs, and discussing ideas. But now, I live in another city, and he has begun driving himself, and moments like this, are few and far between. So I hold these moments dear.

The moments where I get to see him so relaxed and unguarded. Many see him on the wrestling mat, pinning down another man in a fierce and merciless fashion. Or they see him standing strong, stoic and silent, as he walks along to his destination. Yet, it's in the car that I have often heard him open up about his thoughts and life, and then see him unguarded, like now, falling asleep. These moments I hold in my heart, looking at them and breathing in their essence, knowing change is on the horizon and that, as we get older, other people will enter into our lives and take up our time and energy.

So I hold these moments dear, tucking them away in my heart to remember later on as we go through life and change.

Running, Life, & Love

Here's something I wrote back in November. I really need to start finishing things I write. It's for all you runners, or just... anyone in general. Enjoy:

My breathing seems to create a rhythm with my foot steps. Step. Step. Huff. Step. Step. Huff. Sweat begins to trickle down the back of my neck as my body finally warms up in the cool air. It's quiet, except for the music in my ears coming out of my headphones. It keeps me distracted from the slow oncoming cramp in my side and the muscles in my feet complaining. The first mile always seems the hardest.

"Mom, how do you know when you're in love?"

She pauses.

The memory hits me as I bounce up and down by the light, waiting to run across. My head often goes off in various directions when I run. Heck. When I do anything. I tell myself to keep moving and not to lose momentum. Other runners come up behind me, also waiting for the light to turn. The walk sign appears. The light's green. I run.

"You... well. They're all you can think about. And you want to spend all your time with them," she says to my 16-year old self. "But... more importantly. You feel really good about who you are. And..." she kind of smiles, "They make you want to be a better person." She looks up at me, "I think that's mainly it. You feel so good about yourself, but at the same time, want to become better."

I reach the half way point: 1.5 miles. I turn around and begin running the last 1.5 miles I have to go.

Past relationships come up in my head and the words "Hannah I love you" in various voices echoes. Before, thinking about past relationships used to make my heart ache. A tear or two would escape as I thought about loves now lost and moments I couldn't get back. But now, I acknowledge their existence with acceptance: acceptance that they had to happen and yet, acceptance that they are now over with it. Acceptance that they were painful, but necessary. Like the cramp in my side that has eased away now, making it easier to keep running. Like my muscles that once screamed with pain, have now grown stronger and with new abilities to help me run.

Some men run by me and I inwardly wish I could run faster. I immediately pick up my speed, but quickly slow down, realizing I can not keep up that pace. They are training for something else, are a different person, with a different physique. Heck, they may have been doing this for a few years now, while a noob like me knows that I can't push myself too hard too fast. Maybe one day I will get there. But maybe not.

I remember when the people around me first started getting engaged. While I knew that wasn't for me at the time, I couldn't help but want to run alongside of them. I felt like they would be leaving for an far off island that single people weren't allowed to visit. They were going so far and so fast, and here I was, keeping my steady and even pace by myself. But I also had to remember, that they were also different people, with different lives and different stories. Right now, they were running in the direction towards marriage, while I was keeping my steady pace, building my stamina and muscles for a different story. Again, maybe one day I will sprint towards marriage, but maybe not.

Those runners turn off and I turn in a different direction. I glance back, looking at all those runners. I often want to know where they all are going; what trails they know about, how far do they run, and what equipment do they use. But I realize, that if I keep looking back, I'll trip and fall, or run into a tree, which I almost do. I turn my head back on my path, knowing where it is I want to go to complete my run. I have to focus on that, otherwise... I'll never finish my own run.

I see that I can't keep comparing myself to others. I can't keep looking around at who's dating, who's married, who has a job, who's moved to a far off country, who's serving God and how, who's wearing what clothes, and who's achieved what academic degree. Everyone is different and in different spots during their race and it's a completely different race than mine. If I keep glancing over at what they're doing, I'll just trip and fall.

Finally, I make it to the end. To my home. My steps come to a slow stop, and I look up, breathing hard. A smile slowly spreads across my face as the feeling of success and accomplishment pat me on the back, saying, "Job well done". It's those feelings that make you excited to go out and run again; to test and push yourself even farther. But for now, I will go inside and rest. Soon, I will go back out again, but now is the time to wait, rest, and recover. And that is also a vital part to running, and to life.