This will sound cliché, but it's incredible how much life can change in a year. In October, I'll be starting an internship with a global company in Spain, I have a degree in communications, and I love myself more than I think I ever have. However, this time last year, I was a mess inside. Nearly overnight, my engagement came to an end and the man I wanted to spend eternity with no longer wanted to be in a room with me for more than five minutes. I spent about a week crying in bed, dry heaving, and even lost around 20 pounds. That was the weakest I have ever felt emotionally and physically. My family and friends say I handled the break-up exceptionally well and sometimes can't fathom how I was able to push through it. I mean, sometimes I can't even fathom how I was able to push through it. I came so close to just shutting down, leaving college, and coming home to Virginia – I even got an associate degree last minute, so that I could transfer schools eventually! It was my first relationship, my first engagement, and my first breakup. My parents were on the other side of the country, my best friends were in different states, and the person I had found the most comfort in for the past six months didn't want to see or hear from me. Of course, I wanted to be anywhere except Rexburg, Idaho! Fortunately, I realized that running away and hiding from people won't repair my relationship, won't bring my friends closer to me, and won't help me learn and grow. For some people, leaving is necessary, and there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, I had to drop out halfway during a semester to focus on my mental health once, but I knew that wasn't what I should do in this situation. That decision and realization paved the way for EVERYTHING else I did within the past year.
Now, I don't want this to be a long post about a failed relationship. This post is not a way for me to complain and ask for pity from people. This is a blog post about recovery and learning to love yourself. However, I will be discussing how I felt because of the culture of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, specifically at BYU-Idaho. However, what I write is in no way intended to bash the Church. I am a proud member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and have a testimony; this post simply explains how I felt based on the people I was around and the culture (created by the people) of The Church in a small college town. On the other hand, I will be discussing topics such as the grace of God and how that played a significant role in my healing and how I learned to love myself more than a man I learned to love first.
I tend to be strong for those around me. I've always told my friends that I was there to bear their struggles with them. I always told them, "it's ok if you can't be strong right now, I'll be strong for you." However, this time, I was the one in need of strength. I felt so weak, and I wasn't thinking clearly. This was another point of personal growth. I had to reach out for help on a subject I was still uncomfortable discussing. I had to rely on the strength of others to give me strength. More importantly, I had to have faith in the strength of God and the love He had for me. The grace of God is how I started to get my strength back – even stronger than before – and develop a love for myself.
After the breakup, I wasn't only hurt; I was afraid. I was ashamed to go out in public – in fear that I would run into somebody I know and they would give me the look of sympathy or judge me for not having a successful relationship that ended in marriage. I didn't want people to feel bad for me. Getting married is a massive deal in the Church, and BYU-Idaho is notorious for people getting married. I felt like a failure for not getting married. I was afraid of people asking me questions about why the relationship ended – little did they know I had that same question. I was afraid that I had disappointed my family. There was so much effort and help from my family to make me happy during a long-distance relationship, based on my faith in the relationship being successful. I thought my family was going to be disappointed in my misplaced faith. I was afraid because I was left alone to clean up a mess I didn't create. Everyone was looking at me for answers – answers I didn't have. I felt lost, confused, alone, and afraid.
Once again, it was the strength and love of the Lord, friends, and family that helped me find my strength and face my fears. I was so consumed with what people thought of me and what people wanted of me. I felt like I wasn't good enough for anybody. I wanted to be whoever my ex-fiancé wanted me to be, I wanted to be whoever my parents wanted me to be, I wanted to be whoever society wanted me to be, and eventually, I had to realize what they wanted was insignificant. The only person I should be is the person I wanted to be. However, that brought out another issue and probably the most challenging part of the recovery process – learning to love myself.
Whether or not I loved myself before my relationship, I ended up loving him more and lost whatever love I had for myself somewhere between the first date and the last time I saw him. The most challenging part of the break-up was learning to love myself again. To explain how I was able to do that, I'm going to insert something I wrote a few months ago (this is not meant to be a poem, just my thoughts written down):
Him or Her?
She finds value in caring for people
But rarely does this include herself
She's fully aware that caring for others
Does not require that she be the one to suffer
She doesn't want to abandon him
She just wants to save herself
With her pain filled to the brim
Is there room to care for anyone else?
She has recently become aware
of an ethical code to care
So, with this knowledge,
who does she choose?
An answer she prays to find
But she feels she can no longer breathe
As her heart controls her mind
And she begs to be set free
Clarity surrounds her
As she starts to let go and let God
Now knowing her worth in God's kingdom
It's no wonder
She didn't choose him.
She chose her.
I handled my pain in many ways. If you ask my friends, they'll tell you I went through several phases. They'll tell you I listened to Ariana Grande's Thank U, Next album on repeat for months and other songs about how a woman doesn't need a man or how it's ok – essential even – to focus on yourself. If you ask my teachers, they'll tell you it seemed like I was fine on the outside. They'll tell you I still strived to be the best student I could. They'll tell you that I always tried to have a smile on my face and continue to help others in the class. If you ask my family, they'll tell you I wouldn't stop crying. They'll tell you I called my mom every day asking for help because I would struggle to complete a simple task. They'll tell you that I had several conversations with them about dropping out and going home. If you ask my roommates, they'll tell you that I never came out of my room. They'll tell you that I wasn't eating very often. They'll tell you that I was a slob for a while – because I just couldn't bring myself to care about anything except sleeping and escaping reality. They'll tell you that I had some really good days and some really bad days.
If you ask me, I'll tell you that I couldn't have made it through the past year as well as I have without these people. Without my friends going on car rides with me as I scream Truth Hurts by Lizzo at the top of my lungs or listening to me complain about how I was feeling. Without them, I would've finished that semester depressed and would've left BYU-Idaho. Without my teachers, I would've failed all my classes. They were always understanding and willing to work with me so that I could succeed in their class. Without my family, I wouldn't have had the thought to reach out for God's hand and make the first step toward independence and self-love. I'm so beyond grateful to have had the roommates I had. They could hear me crying every day and always pretended as if they didn't notice. They would sit with me at Church, which may seem like nothing, but for me, it was part of why I was more inclined to go to Church at the time. They invited me to things and never once made me feel like a burden to them. Without these people, I wouldn't have started to love and respect myself.
Now, I'm preparing to live and work in Spain for three months, which is an incredible opportunity. I'm proud of the things I've accomplished since October 2018, big and small. I'm thankful for the friendships I have made along the way and the friendships that were strengthened because of this trial. I haven't ever been as close to the Lord as I am now. I don't feel like a disappointment anymore; I feel like my family is proud of me. I don't feel afraid or alone anymore. I have myself, and I love myself. People often say, "you can't expect someone to love you when you don't love yourself." I don't think that's true. I had so many people who loved me, but because I didn't love myself, I either didn't see it or wouldn't accept it. Today I can say I'm proud of the woman I've become and that I love her. I mainly wrote all of this for personal reasons but decided to post it in case someone else feels alone, scared, or lost after losing what they thought would be with them forever. I don't expect many people to read it, but if you've made it this far, I hope that you understand how important it is to let people love you, including yourself.
Now, I don't want this to be a long post about a failed relationship. This post is not a way for me to complain and ask for pity from people. This is a blog post about recovery and learning to love yourself. However, I will be discussing how I felt because of the culture of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, specifically at BYU-Idaho. However, what I write is in no way intended to bash the Church. I am a proud member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and have a testimony; this post simply explains how I felt based on the people I was around and the culture (created by the people) of The Church in a small college town. On the other hand, I will be discussing topics such as the grace of God and how that played a significant role in my healing and how I learned to love myself more than a man I learned to love first.
I tend to be strong for those around me. I've always told my friends that I was there to bear their struggles with them. I always told them, "it's ok if you can't be strong right now, I'll be strong for you." However, this time, I was the one in need of strength. I felt so weak, and I wasn't thinking clearly. This was another point of personal growth. I had to reach out for help on a subject I was still uncomfortable discussing. I had to rely on the strength of others to give me strength. More importantly, I had to have faith in the strength of God and the love He had for me. The grace of God is how I started to get my strength back – even stronger than before – and develop a love for myself.
After the breakup, I wasn't only hurt; I was afraid. I was ashamed to go out in public – in fear that I would run into somebody I know and they would give me the look of sympathy or judge me for not having a successful relationship that ended in marriage. I didn't want people to feel bad for me. Getting married is a massive deal in the Church, and BYU-Idaho is notorious for people getting married. I felt like a failure for not getting married. I was afraid of people asking me questions about why the relationship ended – little did they know I had that same question. I was afraid that I had disappointed my family. There was so much effort and help from my family to make me happy during a long-distance relationship, based on my faith in the relationship being successful. I thought my family was going to be disappointed in my misplaced faith. I was afraid because I was left alone to clean up a mess I didn't create. Everyone was looking at me for answers – answers I didn't have. I felt lost, confused, alone, and afraid.
Once again, it was the strength and love of the Lord, friends, and family that helped me find my strength and face my fears. I was so consumed with what people thought of me and what people wanted of me. I felt like I wasn't good enough for anybody. I wanted to be whoever my ex-fiancé wanted me to be, I wanted to be whoever my parents wanted me to be, I wanted to be whoever society wanted me to be, and eventually, I had to realize what they wanted was insignificant. The only person I should be is the person I wanted to be. However, that brought out another issue and probably the most challenging part of the recovery process – learning to love myself.
Whether or not I loved myself before my relationship, I ended up loving him more and lost whatever love I had for myself somewhere between the first date and the last time I saw him. The most challenging part of the break-up was learning to love myself again. To explain how I was able to do that, I'm going to insert something I wrote a few months ago (this is not meant to be a poem, just my thoughts written down):
Him or Her?
She finds value in caring for people
But rarely does this include herself
She's fully aware that caring for others
Does not require that she be the one to suffer
She doesn't want to abandon him
She just wants to save herself
With her pain filled to the brim
Is there room to care for anyone else?
She has recently become aware
of an ethical code to care
So, with this knowledge,
who does she choose?
An answer she prays to find
But she feels she can no longer breathe
As her heart controls her mind
And she begs to be set free
Clarity surrounds her
As she starts to let go and let God
Now knowing her worth in God's kingdom
It's no wonder
She didn't choose him.
She chose her.
I handled my pain in many ways. If you ask my friends, they'll tell you I went through several phases. They'll tell you I listened to Ariana Grande's Thank U, Next album on repeat for months and other songs about how a woman doesn't need a man or how it's ok – essential even – to focus on yourself. If you ask my teachers, they'll tell you it seemed like I was fine on the outside. They'll tell you I still strived to be the best student I could. They'll tell you that I always tried to have a smile on my face and continue to help others in the class. If you ask my family, they'll tell you I wouldn't stop crying. They'll tell you I called my mom every day asking for help because I would struggle to complete a simple task. They'll tell you that I had several conversations with them about dropping out and going home. If you ask my roommates, they'll tell you that I never came out of my room. They'll tell you that I wasn't eating very often. They'll tell you that I was a slob for a while – because I just couldn't bring myself to care about anything except sleeping and escaping reality. They'll tell you that I had some really good days and some really bad days.
If you ask me, I'll tell you that I couldn't have made it through the past year as well as I have without these people. Without my friends going on car rides with me as I scream Truth Hurts by Lizzo at the top of my lungs or listening to me complain about how I was feeling. Without them, I would've finished that semester depressed and would've left BYU-Idaho. Without my teachers, I would've failed all my classes. They were always understanding and willing to work with me so that I could succeed in their class. Without my family, I wouldn't have had the thought to reach out for God's hand and make the first step toward independence and self-love. I'm so beyond grateful to have had the roommates I had. They could hear me crying every day and always pretended as if they didn't notice. They would sit with me at Church, which may seem like nothing, but for me, it was part of why I was more inclined to go to Church at the time. They invited me to things and never once made me feel like a burden to them. Without these people, I wouldn't have started to love and respect myself.
Now, I'm preparing to live and work in Spain for three months, which is an incredible opportunity. I'm proud of the things I've accomplished since October 2018, big and small. I'm thankful for the friendships I have made along the way and the friendships that were strengthened because of this trial. I haven't ever been as close to the Lord as I am now. I don't feel like a disappointment anymore; I feel like my family is proud of me. I don't feel afraid or alone anymore. I have myself, and I love myself. People often say, "you can't expect someone to love you when you don't love yourself." I don't think that's true. I had so many people who loved me, but because I didn't love myself, I either didn't see it or wouldn't accept it. Today I can say I'm proud of the woman I've become and that I love her. I mainly wrote all of this for personal reasons but decided to post it in case someone else feels alone, scared, or lost after losing what they thought would be with them forever. I don't expect many people to read it, but if you've made it this far, I hope that you understand how important it is to let people love you, including yourself.
