Valentine's Weekend.

This weekend, on Saturday mostly, Erik and I celebrated an early Valentine’s Day. Since he’s interning full-time and taking a few night classes, we figured it’d be easier and more enjoyable to spend an entire Saturday together instead of a few hours on Tuesday night.

To start off the day, we exchanged gifts right away because we lack self-control. I had picked up a few extra things during Christmastime for him – a shirt from Hollister and a stuffed Angry Birds doll to hang from his car window – and made this incredibly cheesy project. (You don’t know just how hard it is to come up with 52 reasons you love a person, even if you love them a lot. Just saying.) And look what I got!

This is a great gift for two reasons: 1) now I can re-read them anytime I want, and 2) Erik dislikes reading and books in general, so for him to go into a bookstore and get this for me says a lot.

Our Valentine’s Day ‘tradition’ – which is just barely that, since it’s only been for this year and last – is to cook and eat a meal together. About a week ago, however, he offered to treat me to any movie I wanted to see in addition to our dinner. So, I chose The Vow.

Let me tell you right now, if you’re planning on seeing it, be prepared to cry. I went in knowing the general plot but had no idea how heartbreaking it was going to be. But overall, I loved it. I enjoyed crying like a baby because it felt real.

After the movie, we came back to my house and started prepping for dinner. Our menu was steak, these potatoes (that I found on Pinterest!) and salad. The potatoes didn’t work out as expected, so we wrapped them in the bacon instead. They still weren’t perfect and I got a little cranky about it, but Erik asked gently if I was really going to let a few botched potatoes ruin my night, and so I got over it.

Later, we had cheesecake for dessert that I made because it’s our favorite. Throughout the evening we went through two bottles of wine… which we purchased on two separate trips to the liquor store. See, Erik decided to tell me after we checked out the first time that he thought we should’ve gone with the bigger bottle. Which meant we went back out fifteen minutes before it closed to get another bottle. We had lots of conversations because wine makes both of us a little more chatty and emotionally open, so that was really nice.

It was a wonderful Faux Valentine’s Day. We don’t usually do anything romantic on a regular basis and it was awesome to have a whole day dedicated to focusing on our relationship. Everything only reinforced how much I love him.

One Year.

 {March 2011; at Cortney's birthday party}

 One year ago today, I took a huge leap and jumped when I didn’t see any safety net beneath me.

Erik and I had only been on four ‘dates,’ one of which included a very memorable New Year’s Eve. Up until that point, I hadn’t fully figured out how I felt. I was letting myself go with the flow, not really concerned with having all the pieces put together. In the back of my mind, though, I was aware that things were moving super fast.

So when he asked me to be his girlfriend, I was surprised. But it took only a moment before I said ‘yes.’ It truly was the boldest – and by far the best – decision I made in 2011. And while I worry that sometimes I exaggerate, I feel that my life would be starkly different without him in it. I’ve become a better version of myself, some of which would’ve happened anyway, but having him by my side has only fueled my momentum.

I’ll share something I haven’t shared with too many people: this is my first time being really-and-truly in love. Looking back, I didn’t feel this way in my last relationship; I couldn’t tell you what I felt then, but I know it wasn’t this. This is love. This is the thing you can’t describe, the feeling you stop questioning because you just know. It makes me so blissfully happy at times that I hope it never stops.

So here’s to another wonderful year with my best friend, the person who makes me smile even when I don't want to, always makes me laugh (even when he's not funny), and treats me like a princess.

Love you always, babe.

{October 2011; Erik's birthday party}

Special Birthday.

Today (by which I mean Sunday, because I accidentally posted on Saturday night) is a special day because it’s E’s birthday.

My fave picture of him, with my brother at Easter.

(While I’m at it, I may as well drop the ‘nickname’ considering I don’t think it’s an issue anymore – his actual name is Erik. Clearly, I’m super creative with my nicknames.)

I joked that he’s officially old, but he pointed out that that makes me really old, so I dropped it. In honor of his birthday, I want to share with you an excerpt from a journal entry I wrote on our six-month-versary. I got into this habit of writing ‘letters’ to him every once in a while (that he hasn’t read), so that’s why it’s written as if addressed to him. This piece is one I constantly go back to that so accurately describes how I feel about him and this relationship.

"When we started talking, I was broken. I had just begun to pick up the pieces and try to figure out how to put them back, all the while having to plaster on a grin and pretend everything was in order. Yes, I had my friends holding me up, but they were busy with their own lives. To be 100% honest with you, I felt a little helpless.

Most of all, though, I was at a point where I thought nobody was going to love me like this. And I worried that, even if I put myself back together the best I could, the cracks were going to stay and keep people away. My health and anxiety problems - even if I "fix" them - will likely always rear their ugly heads every once in a while, and it's scary to think about facing that alone for the rest of your life.

You proved me wrong. You proved me wrong at a time when I really needed to be proven wrong. You were the first person who didn't make a big deal out of my problems or judge me for them. You pushed them aside and found the true me underneath. I feel like others look at me and start thinking 'health problems, anxiety, no job, burdening her parents' - you saw through all of that and just saw me.

As much as I love you for all of that, don't think it's the only reason. I love you for all that you are - the charming, outgoing person who makes friends wherever he goes; the goofy, silly person who comes up with stupid jokes (that I laugh at anyway); the kind-hearted, caring person who listens to my crazy thoughts and gives me advice."

It’s incredibly sappy, I know, but it’s the honest truth. That’s why I can’t help doing all these celebratory things for his birthday. He’s so important in my life and I’m pouring all of my love into things – his party, our dinner out, and gifts – so that he understands that fact. If you were to ask him, he’d probably say he’s the lucky one here, but it’s really and truly me, I promise you that.

Happy birthday, love. ♥

Someone on my side.

{♥}
For most of my adult life, I’ve been looking for support from those around me, the lack of which has attributed to my low self-esteem. I have parents who rarely say ‘good job,’ so I never felt successful and feel I never will be. I had an ex-boyfriend who would try to hold my hand through everything, making me feel like I couldn't do things on my own.

My parents are not the greatest motivators, nor are they good at being supportive; they’re much better at pointing out my shortcomings than my accomplishments. My ex-boyfriend – whom I only mention because there should be a certain level of support in a relationship – was intent on ‘helping’ and ‘fixing’ things, becoming overly-involved in my quests to get healthy and find a job. It reached a point where he would become disappointed and resentful when I didn’t make a sufficient amount of progress, which eventually became one of the reasons our relationship didn’t last.

Until recently, the only taste I'd had of true encouragement is from my friends, particularly my four best friends from college. They give me a pat on the back for a job well done, even for the smallest things, and have been incredibly supportive despite the mess my life has been for the past few years. Unfortunately, I don't talk to or see them on a daily basis and they are incredibly busy with their own lives, so I don't have them cheering me on in my day-to-day life.

That all changed when I started dating E. Even before we were officially a couple, I casually mentioned that I struggle with health and anxiety issues; his immediate response was to tell me he wanted to be there for me (although I attribute some of that to him wanting to win me over). But since then, I've realized he truly means it. The greatest example came the other day, when I was working on my job search. I wasn’t even applying to jobs yet, just looking up possibilities, but when I told E what I was up to he sent me a couple of encouraging texts. They were simple messages, like ‘keep it up’ and ‘I’ll be here to support you,’ yet they had such an incredible impact.

I can remember telling my ex countless times, “I need you to get out of problem-solving mode and stop ‘helping,’ I just need you to be there for me and listen and say ‘good job’ every once in a while.” He could never do it. Over and over I argue with my parents, pleading with them to stop pointing out all of my downfalls and recognize a job well done. They can't do it.

So when, on a random weekday afternoon, my boyfriend texted me to essentially say you’ve got this and I’ve got your back, I could’ve cried. I actually am crying as I type this. Because that’s what I’ve been missing and that’s what I’ve really needed. Because someone said outright that they know I’m capable of something, they trust I can do it on my own, but that they are there for me to lean on as I go along. Because it is exactly what I’ve been asking of people my entire life.

I didn’t intend on this post coinciding with an anniversary of sorts, but it was actually around this time last year that E first approached me to hang out. Of course, I said no the first time, mainly because I felt my life was in complete shambles and I was in no condition to be in a relationship. Little did I realize that he was going to be the one to help me put everything back together again.

i'm in a glass case of emotion.

{♥}
Talking about my feelings doesn’t come easy for me. At least, it doesn’t come easy in person.

You’ll be interested to know that the first time I expressed my feelings to E was through a letter. I’d written ‘love letters’ for all of my close friends for Valentine’s Day and figured he should get one as well. Being able to collect my thoughts and string together perfectly-worded sentences brought me comfort, the kind of comfort I can’t find in trying to express myself on the spot.

(That being said, I wasn’t even able to stay in the room while he read it because the vulnerability made me super uncomfortable.)

In an ideal world, I would communicate my deepest feelings via written letters forever, taking the time to compose my feelings into eloquent paragraphs. But this is the real world, and in the real world, we use our voices. Writing letters is nice, but sitting and talking face-to-face with someone is much more intimate and desired.

It’s slightly ironic that I have such a hesitancy to share my feelings with E since I have so many. My heart is full to the brim and it spills out onto the pages of my journal and occasionally here on my blog. Yet the idea of saying any of those things causes my brain to lock up and my ability to form coherent sentences to scamper away.

One reason for this is that my family never talked about emotions. We don’t say ‘I love you’ to one another, ever. Seriously. I couldn’t tell you the last time I told someone in my immediate family that I loved them. It’s not that I don’t, it’s just that it was a habit I was never taught and therefore never picked up.

The other reason is simply that being vulnerable scares the shit out of me.

All of this is to say that recently, for various reasons, I’m realizing it’s important to verbally express how I feel. A relationship can’t survive if the two people involved are incapable of communicating. As uncomfortable as I might feel, there are certain things written in my heart that he needs to hear. I keep running on some delusion that he 'just knows' how I feel and that needs to stop because it's likely untrue.

So here's to facing my fears, because every day that goes by without me saying a word is doing an injustice to our relationship, and I love him too much to let my fear get the best of me.

(Ten points if you know what the title's from!)

the luckiest.

{♥}
I always get nervous about posting mushy things around here and the reasons are two-fold. One, even though I love reading and hearing about love, I know some people just roll their eyes and make gagging sounds when they come across it and I don't want to cause that reaction. Two, as much as I want to share, I don’t want to over-share, because that could end up being embarrassing.

But you know what? I can’t help it. Normally I would cringe at how open I'm going to be in this post because I'm afraid that talking about all of it will jinx it. I worry that I'll sound silly and naïve, that I shouldn't feel so strongly about a relationship that hasn't even made it to six months yet, that as soon as I put these thoughts into the universe, everything is going to stop being so awesome. Not this time. Whether it lasts another month, another year, or a lifetime, I'm going to embrace my current feelings and share them with you, because when something is making me this happy, it's worth sharing.

The past couple of weekends with E have been nothing short of fabulous. There have been a lot of successful meetings of friends and family, but it’s not only that. Yes, it’s really awesome knowing that everyone is getting along, but even better are the little things changing and growing between the two of us.

I could feel myself falling for him quite a while back, because I tend to love big and without abandon. However, I kept that a closely-guarded secret, not spilling to a single person (not a single one! It was hard, you guys). I needed to be as sure as I could that he felt the same, which is difficult because there are some things about which I cannot know everything, and another person's feelings are one of those things.

That was the reason for all my angst-filled, emotional days last month – I was struggling with how I felt, how I thought he felt, if they really needed to match up, and my ever-present paranoia (which I’m learning to ignore more and more). And then, one night as I was fighting that paranoia and negativity, it hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I knew. I know how terribly cliché that sounds, but I don’t have any other way to explain it.

Everything feels so different this time around. Of course, I only have one other experience to compare it to, but I have this gut feeling that this is out of the ordinary. When we’re at a party and he comes up to me just to say hi, give me a kiss on the cheek and lip sync to whatever song is playing, I melt. He holds my hand while I'm driving during our many road trips. Whenever he compliments me, I can hear the sincerity in his voice and I get the biggest, silliest smile on my face. It's taken no time at all for him to become one of my biggest supporters, reminding me to think less, go with my gut, and have more confidence in myself. I still get butterflies when we kiss and when he tells me he loves me.

He's really everything I could ever want. He makes me laugh, he's fun to hang out with, and he gets along with pretty much everyone in my life. He's aware of my health and anxiety issues and doesn't make a big deal out of them, but at the same time he gently pushes me out of my comfort zone. He can joke around and poke fun at me, and in the next moment we'll be having a heart-to-heart conversation. We have just as much fun watching movies and game shows while eating Chinese food as we do at a crazy house party or out for drinks with friends. He always makes sure that I'm okay, whether it's checking with me about how long I want to stay somewhere or simply making sure I'm having fun.

Most importantly, though, is that he counters my two biggest flaws: putting myself down and caring about everyone else before myself . Now I have someone who builds me up both intentionally and through random compliments; I have somebody who cares about me and makes sure I'm happy. And honestly, I couldn't ask for anything more than that.

giving thanks.

It’s Turkey Day once again and that means it’s time for some discussion about those things for which I am thankful. I got a little verbose this year, so bear with me.

Family. I have the most amazing (albeit bat-shit insane) family a girl could ever ask for. Parents who put up with me and hold their tongue more often than not about what’s not going on in my life. A mother who listens to me talk about any and everything for as long as I like, giving me advice and her opinion whenever I ask for it. A father who, as much as he loves to act like an old grump, is a mushy family man through and through. A brother who makes me laugh until I’m crying, plays video games with me, lets me vent about all my problems, and is truly the only other person who understands how ridiculous my parents are.

I have wonderful aunts and uncles who fill the little spaces that my parents can’t and grandparents who spoil me rotten. I have nine wonderful cousins, most of whom I would go to the moon for; these are the people who will become a part of all my family traditions in the future, acting as brothers and sisters instead of mere cousins.

Friends. Oh, my heart is too full of love for my friends. I could fill pages and pages with my admiration for these people that have become my safety net, my saving grace. My four best friends from college are my soul mates. I was lucky enough to get a chance to live with each of them for at least a year in college, which left me with more memories than I could ever recall and more laughter than I ever thought possible. They are amazing to me, astounding me at every turn with how hard-working and intelligent they are. Sometimes it’s hard to be surrounded with people so full-to-the-brim with talent, because it’s easy for the jealousy monster to unleash itself, but mostly? I’m just completely in awe of them.

As if having four best friends wasn’t lucky enough, I have two almost-sisters and a handful of girls-turned-young-ladies with whom I grew up inside rooms with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and deafening music. Even though we all don’t see each other as often as I’d like, my dancers all have a spot in my heart, and it only takes a few notes of a familiar song to remind me of them.

I have a fellow dance diva that I met not in ballet class, but in freshman year of high school, and we’ve been friends ever since. We’ve been out of touch – another hard-working brainiac, that one is – but I just know when we reunite, it will be as if no time has passed. I have a pseudo-family who lives down the street, a trio of sisters (one of whom had the cutest baby girl ever last spring) who treat me as one of their own and whose parents let me eat ice cream out of their freezer without asking. I have a couple of guys who never fail to make me laugh or at least smile, and even though we mostly ‘hang out’ in AIM chat rooms, we have our own awesome dynamic going on. I’m so glad to have connected with them this year because they’ve lightened up a lot of my bad days.

The Internetz. It goes without saying that I spend a lot of time online. This one is less about being thankful for the actual internet (though I am glad it exists!) and more about the people I’ve met. Though I have yet to technically ‘meet’ any of you, I am grateful for all the people who lay eyes on this blog, who read my words, and especially those who take the time to comment. If I could, I would give the entire blogosphere a great big hug.

Music and dancing. It’s been a hard couple of years and most days, I have music playing from when I wake up until I fall asleep so that my thoughts are occupied with lyrics instead of dwelling on my life. I just enjoy music so much, which is underscored by my love of dancing. The worst days can be cured by playing an old recital song and remembering choreography or letting off some steam by making up new stuff to a favorite song. I would probably go insane without music or the ability to dance.

I’ve been absolutely terrible at commenting on other blogs this week – hopefully I’ll get around to it this morning as I sip my tea and watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade – but in case I don’t, I wish all of my readers the happiest of Thanksgivings. Enjoy your day, whatever it is that you’ll be doing, and good luck if you’re heading out on Black Friday!

father's day: the men in my life.

I’m not really good with my words when it comes to talking about my family, specifically my parents. But it’s Father’s Day, so I feel I at least have to try.

St. Patrick's Day 2010. Spoiler alert: this gives away my last name!

First and foremost I celebrate my father. Although he seems to not have the strongest grasp on how to be a parent to a 23-year-old daughter, he was always a rock star when I was growing up.

He dressed me in Yankees uniforms and sunglasses, gave me bath time fauxhawks with shampoo and let me wear his massive headphones. He took my brother and I on countless trips to the local park and tied bandanas around our heads, which we thought was the coolest thing ever.

Saturdays were my mother’s “day off” most weeks. He would make us pancakes and French toast for breakfast while we watched PeeWee’s Playhouse. We’d have grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and go on bike rides in the afternoon. At night he’d let us have Pop Tarts as our nighttime snack. And sometimes this happened:

Yes, this is us on top of our china closet. Probably dangerous but really fun, actually.

As I got older, our relationship has been strained a bit. Whether it’s because he didn’t exactly know what to do with a teenage daughter or because he’s just getting older and more fed up with the 9-to-5 grind, we’re just not as close as we used to be. But as much as he seems like a crotchety old man sometimes, I know he’s a softy at heart and that he’ll always love me; I’m always going to be his little girl. And I can always count on him to dance the twist with me.

Lyndsay's Sweet 16, June 2007.

Father’s Day is also dedicated to my grandfathers who love me with great big hearts. My paternal grandfather, my pop-pop, passed away when I was only six or seven years old, so I was just getting to know him. What I do know his that underneath his tough exterior was a man whose heart melted for all of his grandchildren.

My maternal grandfather is the most generous and loving person I have ever known, and is the proudest grandfather ever. He still talks about my piano-playing days and dancing with great fondness. I was blessed to be his very first grandchild and spent countless weekends at my grandparents’ shore house. He taught me how to swim and how to work hard. When we visited him, he took my brother and me with him to pick up the paper and always let us get candy.

My Grandpa's 80th birthday, July 2009.

And finally, I owe my Uncle Russ a bit of praise and love for all he’s done for me in recent years. When I was little I was terrified of him because he was taller than six feet (issues, I haz them). Obviously I’ve grown out of that fear and now he’s like another father to me. I spent a good chunk of my teenage years at his house because my cousin Lyndsay is his daughter.

He helped me get an internship in college and has given me a bit of good advice in the past couple of years, but always makes sure to counter the seriousness by being a total goofball most of the time. He's a technology guru and is pretty much always behind the camera.

Thanksgiving 2007.

I am so very lucky to have such wonderful men in my life who have taught me what a stand-up guy is supposed to be like. They are all loving, protective, and work incredibly hard for the people in their lives. Any man I seriously consider marrying in the future is going to have to live up to all of these examples, so I'll just say this: good luck, future husband.

about the boy.

A while back, The Boy and I were talking about my blog and I sort of promised that one day, I would write a blog about him. Not that it's something I need to be forced to do - I have plenty to say - but I'm not good with The Mushy. In person I am, but when I have to write about my feelings, especially for another person? Blahhhvomit.

But, I guess Valentine's Day is a good a time as any to talk about him.

Let's start with some basics. He does, in fact, have a name - Mark - although I rarely call him that (usually he's just 'babe' to me). The first thing anyone would notice about him is that he is ridiculously tall and lanky. I'm 5'7" and have always been known as "the tall one" amongst my friends and dancers, and he makes me look like the short one.

See? He's a giant.

He likes basketball and kayaking, is trying fervently to get into medical school, and has two best friends who are just as tall as him and are also studying to be doctors (I find the coincidences weird, he probably doesn't). He wears glasses for things like driving and even though he hates them, I really like them. He's can be a huge nerd at times and will always make the corniest joke whenever possible.

We first met in junior year at the EMS semi-formal. Mark was a part of EMS and so was my roommate, Danielle, so my other roommate Natalie and I went as her guests. Basically, my only interaction with Mark was being introduced to him - I spent the evening hanging out with my friends. We saw each other again briefly during our school's spring carnival, but again, it wasn't anything personal - we were both with friends and I don't think we talked at all.

Weeks later, in late April, he randomly friended me on Facebook (foreshadowingggg!). I remember being suspicious because it was completely out of the blue. Later that night, Danielle came back from studying with him and his roommates and dropped the bomb on me with the following story.

After she'd left the boys' townhouse, Mark came running after her to talk to her about something. She was worried because he prefaced it with a whole bunch of "I've never done this before" and "I don't know what to say," but then proceeded to ask her if she thought I would be at all interested in hanging out with him. And that's when my jaw dropped through the floor, because seriously, how often does something so adorable ever happen, never mind to me?! Needless to say, my friends and I were giggling like maniacs the entire rest of the night.

The earliest picture I have of us, from June of 2008.

Despite all this loveliness, Mark and I had a rough start. When we first hung out, which was smack-dab in the middle of finals no less, I felt we had absolutely nothing in common. It wasn't until we saw each other over the summer that things started to click. We started officially dating on June 3rd, but hit a really rough patch right after that regarding religion. Once we resolved that issue, though, we had relatively smooth sailing.

The two of us have been through a lot together. I've watched him struggle to get into medical school for two years, he's been there with me during my troubles with IBS. We are both quick to forgive which makes all the arguments we have seem totally worthless. He treats me like a princess in that he pretty much always thinks of me first. He'll go out of his way to do things for me if he knows it's something I'd like. When I'm sick, he takes care of me. When I don't feel like going out because of my stomach, he's content to stay in and eat Chinese food for the hundredth time. When I'm sad, he does every ridiculous thing until I smile and/or laugh.

I am so lucky to have such a wonderful person as my boyfriend. My day isn't complete unless I've talked to him and most nights, we chat over Skype before going to bed. I honestly don't know where I'd be, emotionally and mentally, if it weren't for him.

I love you babe. ♥