Are We Supposed to Leave Atlanta?

For the last few months, Chris and I have been wrestling with a big question: are we meant to be in Atlanta right now? This city has stolen our hearts, provided us adventure, opportunities and - most notably - introduced us to one another. 

But, a few months ago, we started to notice that we were tired. The traffic, which never bothered me before, felt daunting. The crime reports, which have been there all along, seemed scarier. The hustle & bustle began to ruffle my feathers a little more.

We started asking ourselves if these feelings were a product of our city or if they could be solved by making other lifestyle shifts. And, if we were to move, where else would we go? 

We tossed around big ideas (Uganda!), safe ones (Indiana?)  and a lot of options in between. But, the same spot kept creeping up: Raleigh/Chapel Hill.  We went around in circles on North Carolina like only two obsessive planners can do. We made lists, detailing the good, the bad and the beautiful. 

Then finally, after one especially circuitous conversation on a Tuesday night, we decided we had to take a trip. We were driving to Raleigh Thursday (and staying in a tiny house along the way!). 

Before the trip, we asked ourselves what we wanted in a new city. We both agreed we needed:
- A feeling of adventure, as we were both craving change
- To be near family in some capacity
- To be able to grow his career/my business
- To connect with one another and create a lifestyle that allows for more downtime and white space

We explored Raleigh and Chapel Hill on foot, drinking great coffee, eating amazing gluten free sandwiches and feeling blessedly overwhelmed by the generosity of Chris' friends who acted as our tour guides and hosts. 

We landed in the front seats of Chris' car Sunday, with more coffee and a backseat full of snacks for the six-hour drive home. After a few moments of silence we were in agreement: we loved Raleigh and Chapel Hill. We could see ourselves here - possibly even starting a family. We loved the pace, the ease and the people. It felt warm and sunshiney and happy.

But! We felt like the Lord was telling us to be still. We've prayed about this decision for months, preparing our hearts for an answer and we couldn't believe that we both felt so much love for North Carolina, but so certain we weren't meant to move right now. 

As we realized we were meant to stay put, I began to understand that sometimes a new adventure is really brave. But sometimes, it can take more courage to stay put, even when you're itching for change. It can feel scary to look staleness and frustration square in the eyes and say: I refuse to run from you. I will only learn from you. 

It reminded me that this life is not mine to plan, but instead one to approach with open hands and a grateful heart. So, for today, hello you to, Atlanta. We meet again!

{Wednesday}

Feeling: Abundantly grateful to all of you who filled out my survey. Thank you!  Your honesty, vulnerability and thoughtfulness were overwhelming. I cannot wait to explore each of these questions. Thank you, thank you!

Eating: These Banana, grain-free, dairy free pancakes for breakfast. I had a surplus of over-ripe bananas and these cakes were just the answer! Topped with Sun Butter, cinnamon and blueberries. Alongside a cup of coffee and ah! So good.

Reading: Still working on Orange is the New Black. I'm actually just refusing to read the last ten pages because I enjoyed it so much. Once it's over, it's over, you know? I have Rising Strong up next on the docket. 

Listening: To the Lively Show featuring Brene Brown (!). I love her thoughts on vulnerability and being "high centered" emotionally. I have absolutely been there before. 

Still laughing: About Chris and my tiny house adventure. For those of you who have asked, this is the tiny house we rented and here is an Airbnb $20 off code if you're a first timer. Feel free to ask any questions if you're thinking about booking it. We thought it was so dang funny, we practically laughed the whole time we were there.

Happy Wednesday!

Let's Talk About Your 20s!

Last week, I met with a college student who told me she was scared about graduating. She asked me what the hardest part about the transition was and what I wish I'd known. I answered her honestly: for me, the transition wasn't all that hard. 22, 23 and 24 were OK. And then 25 hit and it was a tornado. I wish I'd known that this was not only OK, but also normal. 

So often, all we really need is for people to normalize where we are. To tell us: this is OK. You are not crazy. You are not alone. This is something that happens to people during this decade.

I'm working on a new project focused on this very topic and would love your help as I begin my research. If you have time for a quick three-question survey (below or via this link if on your phone), I'd love and appreciate your feedback! 

Create your own user feedback survey

Thank you! Happy Monday!

Where Do You Get Your Worth?

It's not something I'm proud to admit, but I used to be a complete tanaholic. I was a triple threat of a sun worshipping disaster: I love nothing more than being outside, I tan quickly and I adored the compliments people gave me about my bronzed skin. 

Circa 2007. I realize now that this isn't the best look. 

In the interest of full disclosure, the first summer I had a 40-hour per week internship and was stuck inside during prime tanning hours, I'd run to my car on my lunch break, throw on my swimsuit and sneak to a nearby pond. I'd recline on my towel in the grass, next to the locals eating sandwiches on a bench before racing back to my car and changing into my work clothes. In the middle of the city - just blocks from my place of employment. 

It was bad. 

I remember thinking: If I'm not tan in the summer, I'm basically not me in the summer. I have to be tan when I go home to Indiana for weddings.

In retrospect, I see now what I didn't see then: I was getting worth from those compliments about my bronzed skin. I had been praised for being tan for so many years that it had become part of what I thought made me, me.

It was a source of self-worth. 

And that can be the trouble with the things for which we receive abundant praise. They start as compliments, which are flattering remarks from others. But, after hearing them over and over, they become complements, which are things that make a group complete. The compliments begin to complete us. 

They become part of who we are.

Over time, you begin to measure your own self-worth based on these things. It may be that you're funny, smart, good at your job or super efficient that you're proud of. And it's OK to be proud of our achievements. But, when we begin to place so much value on our accomplishments, we begin to believe they give us value. 

As we age, we may not be able to access these things - perhaps you lose your job or, like me, realize you don't want to be super tan anymore. Suddenly, the thing that once gave us worth is gone, and we're left with an imaginary measuring stick to which we can no longer stack up. 

Throughout my 20s, I've spent quite a bit of time and energy on figuring out where my worth comes from. I've wrestled with what makes me who I am versus what are simply facts about me. Yes, I may have skin that naturally tans, but it doesn't make me more or less valuable. Yes, I can rock a to do list like it's nobody's business, but it doesn't give me my worth. 

My weight, accomplishments, abilities, relationships and possessions don't make me who I am. They are just things. My worth is not external or temporary. 

It breaks my heart when I see people carrying their worth around their necks like a weight. It's the workout they have to complete in order to feel worthy, the house they have to clean to feel like they're enough and the relationship they have to find to feel whole. It pains me so because I used to be that person. I used to earn my worth every day with tasks and to do lists, exercise and so many fleeting items. 

I've come to learn that the more we begin to believe our worth is innate, and not something to be earned, the more we find freedom to be who we really are. The more we can become whole, full versions of ourselves and begin to believe that we are more than enough.

We are extraordinary, in fact, because we were intentionally made to be exactly as we are.