Getting over myself.

Thirty-three is hard for me. It's hard for someone who was consistently mistaken for a sixteen-year-old in her twenties. One time a pharmacist yelled at me because he thought I was skipping school since the high school was right next door. I was twenty-three. And pregnant. But you know, South Texas, y'all. And the other… Continue reading Getting over myself.

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Bibles and blazers, oh my.

The closest I ever got to reading the Bible growing up was the Bible as Fiction class I took in college. Wait. Scratch that. I did have a religion class I took in high school. (Think Catholic. All Girls. Blazers. A sobering realization later in life that not everyone gets a brand new car on… Continue reading Bibles and blazers, oh my.

Let go, let God.

I deleted all my previous posts. How's that for minimalism? But it's been something that's been playing on my heart and in my head for awhile now. I'm not who I used to be. I look the same. Ish. And I'm just as brilliant and incredibly humble about it. You're welcome. But fundamentally there's been… Continue reading Let go, let God.