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The World Isn’t Always a Cold, Dark Place
Stolen moments serve as a reminder that joy is intentional
I am a walking contradiction.
I’ve mentioned this in essays before, but it bears repeating.
I love people, and attempt to infuse kindness even in my most stern and honest interactions.
As a general rule of thumb, I also hold great disdain for a wide swath of people. Shifting sands of people — with no firm foundation and the inability for true authenticity — crawl under my skin. False bravado, vitriol, and ignorance cause me to throw up in my mouth.
Group think, the rush to cover insecurity with thick, shiny blankets of ego, needless drama and gossip — these qualities make me want to become a crazy dog lady (no cats for me, sorry), and hide in a spooky house on the outskirts of town.
I love adventure, but shrink at uncertainty. I hold genuine, living and deep faith, but I openly struggle with doubt. I don’t identify with most who shout similar beliefs through a Pitbull air horn while living mired in hypocrisy and open hate.
I am an adventurer who often stays home. I am a romantic who runs from vulnerable love and commitment. I long to give back to others and leap outside of my comfort zone, but I love the sanctuary of my…
