It's been over two months since my internship at TWLOHA ended. Those two months have been very full. I closed the distance with my fiancé, finished planning a wedding, wore a pretty white dress while I committed to spending the rest of my life with the man I love, went off on a week-long vacation with my best friend to one of the most beautiful places I've ever been, came home to my ever-loving cat, and started searching for jobs. It's been a difficult two months, filled with questions and depression that likes to linger in the spaces of nothing to do and emails saying I'm not qualified enough. It's also been a beautiful two months, filled with mornings waking up next to my best friend and the fear of a giant ache that comes with missing someone slowly fading away.
With as full as these last two months have been, I haven't spent a whole lot of time reflecting on the time I spent in Florida. It's weird and hard to explain, really, but I almost forget that period of my life existed. I spend a lot of time thinking about Minneapolis and the time I spent there and the friends I left there. My heart aches for that city - for the lights I could see through my apartment window as the city slept, a calm moment in an area of chaos. I ache for the roommates I left behind - for the nights we laughed about the word "whimsical" and found community in such unexpected places. I ache for my other friends, too, for Joey and Michaela and Hannah and all the others. But I don't think about Florida. I don't think about the sunsets I watched over the river or the 7/11 I bought too many slurpee's at or the big wooden door that always stuck or the dog that ran through the office. I don't think about the messages I sent or the stories I heard. I do sometimes think of the people, though. Of the girls I woke up next to on my favorite morning, lying on the ground and sweating in the awful humidity. The people I cried to when parts of my past tried to haunt me and the people I celebrated with when I finally saw a gator in the wild. I do think about them, but I think about them in a way that feels disconnected from the whole experience. As if they were a part of something different.
I think my experience in Florida was more difficult than I like to admit. It was, and is, difficult - because it was difficult in a different way than my difficult seasons usually tend to be. It was a season where my depression faded and rarely flared up, where joy found me more easily and laughter was a part of most days. Maybe that's why it's hard to think about - because it was a time when I felt "fixed," but I've since found that I may never feel completely whole and void of my illness. But it was difficult. Living with eight people is difficult - plain and simple. Responding to emails and hearing stories of the hurt that people feel - that's difficult. And I think I came in with unrealistic expectations. I tried really hard not to, but that's a hard thing to do when you're about to do something you've wanted to do for about as long as you can remember. So, it was hard. There were days when I forgot why I was there - when I focused on conflict or on the difficult parts. It was hard.
But it was also worth it. In so many beautiful ways, it was worth it. It took me two months to come to that realization. To stop being bitter or hurt over the difficult parts and to remember the good ones that outnumbered the bad ones. Today, I got a package in the mail. An unexpected surprise - a signed copy of Jamie's book, If You Feel Too Much. I haven't read a book since I graduated because I ended up reading too much during college and kind of got sick of it. But today, I picked up that book and started reading. I read words that touched me before I even knew the internship existed - words that spoke into the very dark seasons of my life. I read words that encouraged me while I was in Florida - words that reminded me to keep going, to remember why I was there. And I read some new words, too. I think the title, "If You Feel Too Much" resonated with me today - because that's exactly how I felt. Too much and not enough all at once. It was impossible to read Jamie's words without thinking of the ones I had the privilege of writing to supporters reaching out for help; and that was both painful and joyful. I took some time to finally sit down and reflect on the time I spent in Florida - to remember that it did happen and it was a part of my story, no matter how difficult or exciting that may be. Because it was both. And it is both, as life always is. And after reflecting on the days, weeks, months I spent working at the greatest organization in the world, I came away with one truth screaming louder than the others: it was worth it.
My time at TWLOHA may have been difficult for me personally, but it was worth it. If one email that I sent gave someone the courage to keep fighting for their story - it was worth it. If one of my fellow interns walked away with a new friend - it was worth it. And I know I sure did walk away with some amazing, life-long friends. Friends whose voices sound a lot like home and whose texts feel like wild Friday nights that turn into sleepy Saturday mornings. So that makes it worth it. The people I spent time learning under, who took me under their wing and taught me the words to say or the numbers to enter - they made it worth it. Lauren and Jessica and Lindsay and all the others. The stories I got to hear from strangers through computer screens and the ones I got to share with roommates on walks in the pouring rain at midnight - that made it worth it. The blog post I wrote and the ones I threw away, the nights I spent crying over Taylor again and again, the days I made tiny steps away from the monster in my past, the 5k I ran as a present to myself - it was all worth it. Every single second.
I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to end this, because I'm sure this is only the beginning. I have a lot to think about and process if I want to keep reflecting on all that happened in those three months. So, for now, I'll leave you with the few paragraphs I found in Jamie's book that hit way too close to home today:
"Why did a group of young people put their lives on hold and move to Florida a week ago? Why would they trade everything they know, all their normal comfort and quiet, for a crowded house and endless hours of this word 'community'? Why would they want to join a conversation that most people run from?
We're trying to fight for people with kindness, with words that move, with honesty and creativity. We're trying to push back at suicide with compassion, with hope. We're pointing to wisdom, pointing to medicine, saying that hope is real, help is real. We're fighting for our own stories, our own friends and families, our own broken hearts. We're saying there's nothing we can't talk about, nothing off-limits. We're kicking elephants out of living rooms, making room for life.
You. It's about you."
And might I add: it was all worth it.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Saturday, April 25, 2015
When Passions Change
If you had asked me four years ago what one single thing I was most passionate about in life, I would have quickly and without hesitation said, "To Write Love On Her Arms." I'm embarrassed to now admit that I would have been able to rattle off facts about Jamie and that I spent too many car rides staring out windows daydreaming about interning with TWLOHA while simultaneously finding a Florida boy to fall in love with. I was 17, so give me a break. I was facing my personal struggles with self-injury and depression, and TWLOHA was the hope I needed. It was the light at the end of the tunnel, and I held it so dear to me.
Fast forward a few years - to last summer. I was still very passionate about TWLOHA, but new passions were budding. I was working at a youth center and it was a job that never felt like I was going to work. I was interning at a student ministries position with a church I loved. I was mentoring a few students, and I had never felt happier. I was in the middle of finishing my Youth Development degree, and each day I was falling more and more in love with the program. I had never felt more at home.
A few months later, I applied for an internship with TWLOHA and when I was accepted, I couldn't have been more excited. It was surreal to feel like I had come full-circle. From a 14-year old girl first hearing about TWLOHA and being amazed that someone else had put my pain into words that didn't feel like so much hurt, to a 21-year old woman who had just finished college and was going to go be a part of the organization that changed so much of my life.
Now, I'm exactly one week from being done with this internship. The experience I've had here is one I'm not sure I'll ever be able to put into words. I still have to remind myself sometimes that this is real and it's happening and I'm actually working with TWLOHA. I have loved going into the office every day and getting the chance to respond to emails sent in by our supporters - people asking questions and sharing stories. I have been let into so many different stories of people hurting and people celebrating and it has been absolutely incredible. I have also gotten a chance to help do the behind-the-scenes things at TWLOHA. The things you don't think about when you think about us. Bank statements and donor databases and a love/hate relationship with SalesForce.
Mostly, I have met people who have left very big footprints in my life. People who I have laughed with, cried with, and lived with. People who are willing to travel hundreds of miles just to celebrate my wedding with me when I have only known them for a few months. A girl who owned 40-something TWLOHA shirts before we started getting them for free, and another who had just heard of this a few months prior to coming here. People who have not judged my incredible love of anything free I can get my hands on, and people who have held me up when the stress of planning a wedding and hitting month 11 of being long-distance with my fiancé got the best of me. People who have taught me to love and to love well, and others who have extended that love to me when I had done nothing to deserve it.
I have learned more about community than I ever thought possible in these past few months. I have also learned so much about myself. I have learned that I love crepes, I still hate running, and I am a lot more redneck than I originally thought. I have learned that I suck at loving people sometimes, and that at other times, I am really quite good at it. I have learned that depression does not define me and that as much as it is okay to not be okay, it is okay to be okay, too. I stepped into the scary unknown of a world where depression didn't haunt me every day, and I've come out alright. I have struggled and I have celebrated. I have failed and succeeded. And I have learned a lot about where my passions lie.
I was afraid of this term ending for a little while. Because this is something I have wanted to do for so long, I was afraid that it would feel like I accomplished my dream and now there wasn't much left to do. I was afraid that I would feel empty. And actually, the opposite has happened. One of the most prominent things I learned throughout my time here was that TWLOHA is no longer the thing I am most passionate about. I am still very passionate about this organization and the work it does. I have nothing bad to say about TWLOHA. This organization is full of wonderful people making a big difference, and I have cherished every second I have spent working here.
But, for a while, I have felt like something was missing. I have felt like I wasn't working out of my greatest passion. It has been so difficult to work where I don't interact with or mentor students regularly. I've learned that maybe my heart for student ministry and youth work is where my biggest passion lies now, and I've learned that that's okay. It doesn't mean my time here was wasted. It doesn't mean I don't appreciate and love that I had this experience. It just means that I leave here with a full heart and better knowledge of who I am.
It was very scary to come to this realization, and for a little while, I felt like I was doing something wrong or failing in some way. After talking to Zeke and some of my fellow interns, I realized that I'm feeling so afraid because for a long time, this was my greatest dream. I thought I would come here and then I could just kind of float by for the rest of my life. But God won't let me off that easy. And change is a scary thing, but I'm learning to embrace it. I'm learning to embrace the fact that the God I serve is a God who is constantly molding and changing me into the daughter He wants me to be.
So, here I am. One week from finishing up one of the coolest experiences I have ever had, and my heart is full. I am ready to walk away from here, not as a different person, but as a person more true to myself and to what I believe God is calling me to. I'm very excited about what is to come, and I'm also very afraid - because other than getting married, I have no plans. But I'm going to learn to be okay with that and let God direct my path and continue to pray that His plans become my plans, because they are far greater and far better than my own.
Fast forward a few years - to last summer. I was still very passionate about TWLOHA, but new passions were budding. I was working at a youth center and it was a job that never felt like I was going to work. I was interning at a student ministries position with a church I loved. I was mentoring a few students, and I had never felt happier. I was in the middle of finishing my Youth Development degree, and each day I was falling more and more in love with the program. I had never felt more at home.
A few months later, I applied for an internship with TWLOHA and when I was accepted, I couldn't have been more excited. It was surreal to feel like I had come full-circle. From a 14-year old girl first hearing about TWLOHA and being amazed that someone else had put my pain into words that didn't feel like so much hurt, to a 21-year old woman who had just finished college and was going to go be a part of the organization that changed so much of my life.
Now, I'm exactly one week from being done with this internship. The experience I've had here is one I'm not sure I'll ever be able to put into words. I still have to remind myself sometimes that this is real and it's happening and I'm actually working with TWLOHA. I have loved going into the office every day and getting the chance to respond to emails sent in by our supporters - people asking questions and sharing stories. I have been let into so many different stories of people hurting and people celebrating and it has been absolutely incredible. I have also gotten a chance to help do the behind-the-scenes things at TWLOHA. The things you don't think about when you think about us. Bank statements and donor databases and a love/hate relationship with SalesForce.
Mostly, I have met people who have left very big footprints in my life. People who I have laughed with, cried with, and lived with. People who are willing to travel hundreds of miles just to celebrate my wedding with me when I have only known them for a few months. A girl who owned 40-something TWLOHA shirts before we started getting them for free, and another who had just heard of this a few months prior to coming here. People who have not judged my incredible love of anything free I can get my hands on, and people who have held me up when the stress of planning a wedding and hitting month 11 of being long-distance with my fiancé got the best of me. People who have taught me to love and to love well, and others who have extended that love to me when I had done nothing to deserve it.
I have learned more about community than I ever thought possible in these past few months. I have also learned so much about myself. I have learned that I love crepes, I still hate running, and I am a lot more redneck than I originally thought. I have learned that I suck at loving people sometimes, and that at other times, I am really quite good at it. I have learned that depression does not define me and that as much as it is okay to not be okay, it is okay to be okay, too. I stepped into the scary unknown of a world where depression didn't haunt me every day, and I've come out alright. I have struggled and I have celebrated. I have failed and succeeded. And I have learned a lot about where my passions lie.
I was afraid of this term ending for a little while. Because this is something I have wanted to do for so long, I was afraid that it would feel like I accomplished my dream and now there wasn't much left to do. I was afraid that I would feel empty. And actually, the opposite has happened. One of the most prominent things I learned throughout my time here was that TWLOHA is no longer the thing I am most passionate about. I am still very passionate about this organization and the work it does. I have nothing bad to say about TWLOHA. This organization is full of wonderful people making a big difference, and I have cherished every second I have spent working here.
But, for a while, I have felt like something was missing. I have felt like I wasn't working out of my greatest passion. It has been so difficult to work where I don't interact with or mentor students regularly. I've learned that maybe my heart for student ministry and youth work is where my biggest passion lies now, and I've learned that that's okay. It doesn't mean my time here was wasted. It doesn't mean I don't appreciate and love that I had this experience. It just means that I leave here with a full heart and better knowledge of who I am.
It was very scary to come to this realization, and for a little while, I felt like I was doing something wrong or failing in some way. After talking to Zeke and some of my fellow interns, I realized that I'm feeling so afraid because for a long time, this was my greatest dream. I thought I would come here and then I could just kind of float by for the rest of my life. But God won't let me off that easy. And change is a scary thing, but I'm learning to embrace it. I'm learning to embrace the fact that the God I serve is a God who is constantly molding and changing me into the daughter He wants me to be.
So, here I am. One week from finishing up one of the coolest experiences I have ever had, and my heart is full. I am ready to walk away from here, not as a different person, but as a person more true to myself and to what I believe God is calling me to. I'm very excited about what is to come, and I'm also very afraid - because other than getting married, I have no plans. But I'm going to learn to be okay with that and let God direct my path and continue to pray that His plans become my plans, because they are far greater and far better than my own.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Happy New Year
The ball drops and fireworks. Resolutions are made.The above words were written three years ago by someone I look up to a lot, founder of TWLOHA, Jamie Tworkowski. New Year's Eve has always been my favorite holiday because of the beauty of a single moment: because of the hope of change, because of the thought of moving forward - leaving the past behind and becoming new. This NYE, I found myself surrounded by the same friends I have been surrounded by for the past 18 or so years (maybe not on NYE specifically, as I imagine when I was three years old, I spent NYE at home, but you get the point). I was incredibly grateful for the people in that room, for the lifelong friendships I have been so blessed by. I had fun laughing and playing games, watching the ball drop and screaming countdowns. I brought in the new year with a kiss to my fiancé and I was joyful.
People scream and people kiss and is it possible to change?
Is it really truly possible to leave the past behind?
However, I didn't want to look back on 2014. I didn't want to, as I usually do, think of the change that year brought me. I think I knew it would hurt too much. 2014 was, hands down, the hardest year of my life. I walked through the grief of losing one of my closest friends from high school. I celebrated with my best friend/roommate as she walked across the stage at graduation, and then felt the pain of that loss as we said goodbye the next day. I spent seven months away from Zeke, three of those not knowing if we were going to even make it out of the summer. I spent my last semester feeling completely alone, as most of my friends had already graduated or moved on to other things. I battled the greatest depression I have ever faced. I spent days in my bedroom, crying for hours on end. I watched entire series' on Netflix because I was afraid to feel. I stopped turning in assignments on time because I didn't care. It was awful.
But I made it. As I look back on the worst year of my life, I find so much victory. I graduated college a semester early. I finished an 83-page paper about the thing I am most passionate about. I got accepted to a pretty competitive internship. I went to counseling for the first time in years, finally accepting that I needed help and understanding I couldn't do it alone. I walked into a doctor's office and asked about antidepressants. I asked for help grieving the loss of my friend on the one-year anniversary of his death from almost-complete strangers. I kept a resolution going that I made three years ago to stop eating meat. I said "yes" to marrying the love of my life. I made it. I made it. I made it through.
As I look forward to 2015, I am equally terrified and thrilled. In eight days, I will move to Florida and start an internship I have wanted since I was in high school. I will move to a place where I don't know a single person and start a new life for myself. I will live with eight awesome people and create memories I'm sure will last a lifetime. In 138 days, I will say "I do" and start the greatest adventure of my life. And from there, I have no idea where I will go. I do know that I will walk out of 2015 a completely different person (literally, since my name will be "Elyse Lawson" eek!), and I hope that I will find more healing in this new year.
Am I ready for what 2015 has for me? Heck, no. But I am excited, and I am hopeful. And I know I have a God that will be there for me every second of every day.
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