I’m Coming Back Home

I’m coming back home. 

It’s still in the early days but, man, does it feel good to be back. 

I don’t even know what to attribute this new page to. Everyone’s prayers. Bl. Carlo Acutis and St. Therese playing tag-team in the last week; all those roses from St. Therese… with her name on them! A fellow consecrated virgin “in training” (we started our discernment two months apart and she’s also ahead of me in the formal process). The Holy Spirit using everyone and everything… the list can go on and on. The important thing is that I’m coming out of that spiritual desert I’d been trying to survive in.

I first noticed it about two weeks ago but only told my spiritual director about it since I’ve been sharing everything I’ve wrestled with in recent months. Even if I don’t tell anyone else, he gets all the good and bad because he’s helping guide me through this discernment process and it’s so important that he helps me figure out if I’m truly called to the vocation of consecrated virginity lived in the world. But this blog post isn’t about that. It’s about the journey I’ve had these past couple of months. 

I’ve already written about how difficult it’s been. It was the most spiritually arduous thing I’ve had to go through since my reversion in 2006. I saw habitual sins I thought I’d seen the last of in 2008 pop up once again. I found myself reliving a lot of things I’d dealt with pre-reversion. For the first time in over 15 years, I found myself re-living some of the desires and aspirations that the world was offering me prior to me choosing my current path. 

It almost seemed like God was saying, “this is your last chance to live and experience this before you make a life-long commitment. This is what the world offers you. You can be ‘happy’ and you can feel ‘joy’ but it’s all fleeting. You will always be left feeling empty at the end of the day.” I jokingly told my SD it felt like a “Catholic rumspringa” — a last chance to experience things away from the Church before committing myself to it. (side note for those not familiar with what Rumspringa is: in a nutshell, it’s when Amish youth are allowed to live in our modern world so they can decide whether to be baptized in their church or stay out in the world.) 

But the thing is that I was never really away from the Church. I didn’t *feel* it — I didn’t feel close to God, I I didn’t want to pray, and I felt completely numb to everything faith-related — but I kept going. I kept praying. I kept my promises as a Benedictine Oblate. I slipped in other areas of my life but I kept these things even when I was sleep deprived or feeling so sick that I just wanted to sleep through my regular hours. 

It wasn’t until I was coming out that I realized that I was showing my love for God by staying faithful to the promises I’d already made. I’ve already written some of this in the previous blog post so I won’t repeat all of it. Let’s just say that I’m grateful for that journey because it showed me that I could do it — stay as faithful as I can and even make that life-long commitment if Archbishop Gómez agrees that God is calling me to this vocation. 

And that’s saying a lot since those close know I’m incredibly indecisive and am often nervous of committing to something so permanent because I’m afraid of messing up or choosing wrong. But, by doing that, I wasn’t trusting God. It’s not about what *I* can do on my own but what God can do in and through me; what I can do with the graces He gives me. 

There have been three major things that have also helped:

• the daily Mass
• the chaplet of Divine Mercy
• being completely honest and vulnerable with my SD

I’ve unfortunately not been able to get to daily Mass but that doesn’t mean I’m not getting my daily Mass dose. I watch it streaming every day. I figured that simply because I can’t get to one (yet!) doesn’t mean I have to be completely devoid of it. I have my hour (or longer on Sundays) carved out to myself. Even if my neighbors are being their usually noisy selves, I can see enjoy the Mass and sing the hymns. Even if I can’t receive the Eucharist, I can still receive spiritual communion. And this is where my fellow “CV in training” comes in. 

I saw how on fire and in love with Christ she is. It is very inspiring to see. While the temptation for jealousy and comparison was (and is) there, my mind didn’t go there. Instead, I was reminded of how I was in that same position pre-pandemic / pre-health crises. I went to my last daily Mass the Friday before Los Angeles went into lockdown. I was attending daily Mass at least 3x per week (if not more). I went even when I wasn’t feeling my best; when I was already showing signs of an adrenal insufficiency, which I didn’t know about at the time. If it wasn’t for the lockdowns, my emergency gallbladder surgery two months later, the adrenal crises that could’ve been fatal that summer, and the eventual loss of my eyesight, I think I would’ve kept up my routine. 

When I reached that realization, I had a moment of desperation. I wrestled with the idea of playing the bargaining game with God. You know, “If you restore my eyesight, I promise I will try to…” That’s such a dangerous game to play and I’m glad the Holy Spirit was there to remind me not to go there. So, I decided to do the next best thing and stream the daily Mass. I haven’t missed a single one in the last week or so and the changes are very noticeable in that tiny period of time. 

As much as I would’ve loved to have stayed on the path I was on, I still truly believe that I was meant to go through it to grow from it. If I hadn’t walked, stumbled through, cried through, crawled through the desert, i wouldn’t be where I am now. I needed to mature in my spiritual life while being reminded of the good parts of myself that I’d lost over the years. And I’m not even fully there yet. I have a lot of work to do, but I’m going at a slower pace than normal because rushing rarely leads to anything good.

So, that’s where I am right now. I’m coming back home. I’m taking it one day at a time. If I stumble, I seek God’s hand to stand up once again. I’ll keep moving forward. 

Anyway, I just wanted to share that. 

As I mentioned on social media a few weeks ago, I’m taking a short break from writing articles due to my eyesight getting worse lately. That doesn’t mean I’m not working — I’m still busy with my fourth novel — but at least I don’t have the worries of a weekly deadline or pushing myself too much when I know I need to rest. I hope to return to writing in a couple of weeks, once I get an update on how my vision has progressed? regressed, or stalled. You can bet I’m doing frequent novenas to Bl. Carlo in the meantime. 

I hope y’all are doing well and that you’ll be ready for Lent next week (!!!). 

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! 

Oh, My Love!

Every consecrated virgin’s journey is different, even if all end up having the blessing of calling Christ their Spouse. While I’m not (yet) one, my journey has also been a unique one. 

Some CVs (and religious, for that matter) never dated. I did. I was in a relationship with one guy for almost two years. I was proposed to, twice. As I’ve already mentioned in previous posts, there was someone in my life at the time when I could no longer deny that I was being called to properly discern this vocation. I didn’t date a lot (at least not by modern standards) but I dated enough to know that I really didn’t like it. 

A former spiritual director dissuaded me from making the choice to stay single at an earlier age because of how I disliked dating. We had that conversation when I was in my 20s. He said it was a necessary evil if I wanted to be sure of my vocation. I think it was the best advice I could’ve been given (at the time) because I had to really date with the right mind frame (dating with purpose instead of dating for fun) to know that what my heart longed for was much greater than what I was finding. 

And this is not me throwing dirt on the guys I dated. Some of the guys were really great. Some weren’t the best but they helped me grow as a person and for that I’m grateful. One left me with wounds that took time to heal, but they healed. All made me appreciate the vocation of marriage as a Sacrament, rooted in Christ. 

This journey has not been easy as I am still human and one who feels things deeply at that. It would be dishonest for me to say that I’ve had no temptations to stop the discernment along the way. There have been two very rough periods in the discernment that I seriously questioned continuing. It’s something I didn’t share with anyone but SD and one of my best friends at the time. That and I’ve always been notoriously private about things until I’m ready to talk about them in the past tense. 

Thankfully, I was able to quickly see it for what it was (a temptation) and was able to move from it through prayer and honest vulnerability. That promptly quashed the thoughts and feelings and that is how I’ve learned to place distance and add more prayer during these situations. The enemy knows my weak point as a sensitive, emotional person who feels things deeper than most. Getting me to feel things deeply is one of (if not *the*) the easiest ways to derail me from this path, even if it’s just a slight detour. It’s something I’ve learned (and keep learning) how to best manage through prayer and unreserved honesty with my spiritual director  

There is one thing that is certain: no matter what (or who) has come up in the last 2+ years of this discernment journey, the conclusion is always the same: I’m not called to marriage and no one will be able to fulfill that longing in my heart but Christ. That has been made abundantly clear. I’m not called to be a wife. I’m not called to biological or adoptive motherhood either, though I am quite maternal and love children. Furthermore, the desire I once had for marriage and a family of my own have been replaced by a desire to do what I can for others, on a larger scale — a larger family than an immediate one. I cannot imagine myself not being there for anyone who needs me, even if that person tries to take out their pain and frustration on me in the process. 

I don’t have much to add beyond that. I’m still coming out of the spiritual desert so I’m not going to write anything I don’t feel (have we established I’m an emotional person? lol) and I’m afraid the logical parts won’t be worth writing/reading. 

I mean… well, I guess I could give it a go… I’m not used to writing unless I feel it so let’s see how it goes…

Though I don’t currently *feel* it, I know that no earthly man will ever make me happy like Christ will. No marriage is perfect and all have their crosses and a mystical one with Christ won’t be too different. The only difference is I’m such a sinful creature and am 1000% not worthy of being called His bride while He is the perfect Spouse. I won’t have someone there with me to help me carry the crosses I don’t feel strong enough to carry by myself, but I know that God will provide the help I need when I need it. While I struggle with the feeling of loneliness (yes, even as an introvert), I know that I have a greater community and support system that will be there when I need them. Logically, I know that I’ll be okay and that God will give me the graces necessary to fulfill my vocation and provide whatever else I may need. I don’t currently *feel* it. And that’s okay.

 I don’t have to feel to know. I know, big words from little Miss Sensitive over here. Lol. I haven’t spent the last 2 years and 3 months going solely on feeling. Yes, there have been strong feelings of love and consolation but God is allowing me to live part of this discernment process in the spiritual desert to remind me that I don’t *have to* feel to know that Christ is the only Spouse I’ll ever need. Despite not currently feeling it, I know that this vocation journey has made me sure (as certain as I can be without the official ceremony having taken place) that I voluntarily choose Him as my Spouse and that I choose to give up a possibility of marriage and family for a love greater than I will probably ever understand. I choose to love others and help others see Christ, as His most unworthy bride. I choose to die to myself and give my selfish wants and desires for the Kingdom and His greater glory. 

And that’s how I’m ending this post. It wasn’t exactly what I had originally planned to write but that’s what came out. 

And sorry if the that last long paragraph was a bit of a downer but, like I said, I wrote it from a place of understanding and peace (after years of prayers and discernment) as opposed to feeling. 

For those who are celebrating St. Valentine’s Day with a significant other: I hope you have a wonderful day with your special person.

For those who are celebrating with friends and/or family: hooray for love in all its forms! Enjoy the day!

For those who are longing for a spouse or are nursing a broken heart: this feeling isn’t forever. Pray for your future spouse or for the one who is no longer in your life. 

No matter how or even if you’re celebrating the day, I hope it’s a lovely one and that are reminded of His eternal love. 

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! 

A Month That Has Left Me Empty

 What I anticipated the first month of the year to look like:

• a more relaxed January after a lovely but hectic end of the previous year 
• my prayer life not being as packed with end of multiple long-term novenas (9 month novena & 54-day Rosary novena) and consecration (Marian & Divine Mercy) and oblate promises renewal. 

What actually happened:

• first hospital (emergency room) trip in 14+ months due to the aftermath of a digestive issue (which has not resolved as of yet) and the fears of a possible adrenal crisis (which can be fatal if not addressed quickly) or sepsis
• The lowest point of the spiritual aridity I’ve been experiencing for the last couple of months
• Being completely inactive for weeks because of how much this relapse has knocked me down
• My eyesight once again worsening for the first time since almost completely losing it in late 2020

As I’ve already said on both my Instagram (@lapetitefleurmariale) and Twitter (@MelissaCeciliaG) accounts, this has been a rough month for me… but it’d been building up for months. 

I’ve been dealing with a lot of things, internally, that I hadn’t shared with others. 

The loss of one of my best friends. 

Seeing someone I love deteriorate before my eyes due to their long-time battle with depression and feeling helpless when they refused help. 

Noticing the decline in my eyesight in recent weeks but hoping it was nothing that would last this long. 

Then we have the spiritual battles.

Unable to get to Mass and/or confession in the last 3 months due to health, lack of transportation, and other factors outside my control. 

No desire to pray. Zero. Not being able to concentrate or even pay attention due to an easily distracted mind. 

Feeling absolutely stagnant in and not even wanting to continue my vocation discernment. 

Feeling completely disconnected from God and my faith. 

I could go on and on but you get the gist. All of this seems to have hit me all once — this month — but I know it’s been building up for some time. I was just trying to push it to the side until I couldn’t anymore. 

Since I couldn’t do much — and slept so much when I was really struggling, physically — I ended up discovering my new favorite show… and binge watched it (twice!) in 3 weeks-ish and that brought some enjoyment but it still wasn’t the same. (For the record: the show only had 2 seasons and a movie and I did a lot of fast forwarding and playing at 2x speed to get through parts I could’ve done without so it isn’t as bad as it sounds.) once I finished the show, I felt the void of having something bring me a little bit of relief from the desolation… but it was never the same. It still left me feeling empty. And numb. The show was just a temporary bandaid, not the cure. 

I don’t know what the cure is. I don’t know how I will get out of this spiritual funk… but this evening I had a little ray of sunlight I hadn’t seen in a long time. 

As I wrote on my IG post evening, “I’m not out of the spiritual desert yet… but I have hope that is starting to bring me some consolation.

I didn’t ask for the consolation. I didn’t ask God for anything…. & yet He let me know He was there even when I couldn’t feel Him. He showed me His love. He showed me I’m His beloved daughter. He showed me that what I was going through was a growing pain because I’d outgrown the spiritual state I was in & that had thrown me off since I’d gotten comfortable in that little bubble. He showed me that even if this desolation were to last for the rest of my life, I would be okay… because, despite what was being said & what I felt, I was still trying. 

I’ve kept up my prayer life — majority of Divine Office hours & daily Rosary — despite not feeling it. I’ve kept my promises as a Benedictine oblate as well as I could in my current state of life. I’ve not given up when it seemed like so many others had.

S

Like I said, I’m not out yet. I don’t expect this aridity to leave anytime soon… but I’m now willing & even maybe a little more prepared for the suffering that will endure. 

Like I said on the last blog post I wrote last year, St. Joan of Arc’s quote, “I’m not afraid. I was born to do this”, has once again “entered the chat” & will be my motto as I try to find the light in the darkness once again.”

So; that’s where I am right now. There is a little glimmer of hope. It’s teeny tiny, but it’s there. 

I truly do believe that this might be a spiritual growing pain, one I need to go through to get to whatever God has in store for me. Whether that is moving forward with my vocation discernment or “discerning out”… whether that is embracing a new way of life… or whether it’s something that will be even more life-changing than I expect, I don’t know. I just know that I will keep trying, even if the path is filled with tears, cuts, and bruises along the way. 

Social Media is a Lion’s Den But I’m No Sts. Perpetua & Felicity

As I was praying Prime this morning and meditating on Psalm 6:3 (“Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak: heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled”, Douay-Rheims) I had a very curious and random thought pop into my mind: the internet, specifically social media (especially Twitter), is like a Roman arena… and I’m guilty of being weak to its siren song. Well, the second part didn’t come until I prayed the Rosary after breakfast but it’s something that’s stuck with me. I know the psalm isn’t about this — it’s about mercy and how God loves us despite our weaknesses — but that’s what came to mind. 

I thought about how people use the internet to attack others and how those with more power and influence can utterly destroy the lives of others through it. I thought about the mob mentality that gets intense on Twitter. I thought about what I personally went through on the last day of the year for simply stating that superstitious traditions associated with the New Year go against Church teachings earned me verbal attacks and criticisms. I thought about how all those gossip accounts and websites report fodder for the masses, wasting our time. And I thought about how I’ve been guilty of falling into those traps. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that my love/hate relationship with social media comes from a combination of my want of privacy, my weakness when it comes to moderation, and all the bad things that happen on it. Of course I see the good: the friendships I’ve made through it, the growth I’ve made as a person, the good things I’ve learned… but the negative is what affects me the most and usually outweighs the good for me. 

I thought about Bl. Carlo Acutis (thanks to that funny yet not actually real tweet about a guy supposedly talking smack to him on an online gaming forum) and how he limited his time on things like gaming to do better things for the world. Actually, I think about that a lot since I’ve been wasting a lot more time online during the holidays. I thought about how prayers have become an afterthought during this time and how hard it’s going to be to get back into my prayer groove after 9 months of a specific novena routine and another 54-days of another novena routine. 

I actually cleaned up my Instagram feed quite a bit yesterday since that’s where I’m weakest. Yes, I know it’s funny that the place I’m most addicted to is a visual site while I’m visually impaired. lol. But I cleaned it up because I was spending way too much time on it and a majority of the accounts I was following were not good for me. They didn’t add anything good except some extra dopamine hits and it actually detracted from my spiritual life. Bl. Carlo’s example was like a bucket of ice water that woke me up from that (as I’m calling it) siren song. 

Then, as I mentioned in the beginning of this post, I thought about how social media is like an arena and we’re sent out to the lions… except we do it to ourselves. Those who imprison us are both those created the sites for making (and keeping) them as addicting as they are and ourselves for willingly using them. We’re social creatures so it’s natural for us to want to connect but I think a majority of the time we put too much of an emphasis on the online connections and we neglect those offline. 

I thought about how we Catholics and non-Catholic conservatives who don’t go to extremes are very likely going to become, in a way, white martyrs for professing our faith in the lion’s den that is the internet. The only thing is that I’m no Sts. Perpetua and Felicity. I may say what I say but I don’t have the courage they had to face that martyrdom. I log off. I hide. I don’t regret what I post but I also don’t stick around and that makes me feel like a coward in a way. There’s some great people who fight for and defend the Faith online and do it in a wonderful way that I could never do. That’s not my forte. I’m too sensitive for that. 

All of this is going to make me think long and hard about how I’ve used the internet and social media, how I’m currently using it, and how I want to continue using it from here on out. It’s going to be something that will undoubtedly take time for me to figure out as I’m still struggling with moderation when I’m not busy. 

And that concludes this year’s first blog post. lol. It’s not exactly what I had in mind but it’s something I felt like sharing.

I’m going to go ponder this a bit more and see what the Holy Spirit will help me figure out. 

I hope y’all had a lovely New Year’s Day and have a wonderful year! 

As a always, thanks for reading and God bless! 

2021: The End of an Era & Beginning of a New Life

 

And just like that, we’re ready to say “goodbye” to 2021. Time is flying by! 

2021 will forever hold a special place in my heart as both the year I got a second chance at life and the year in which I closed a major chapter of my life and began a new one I wasn’t expecting. 

Where to start with this incredible year…? Maybe I’ll do a season-by-season recap. 

Beginning of the Year:

Oh boy… I started 2021 in tears and I cried more in the first 21 days of the year than I did for the rest of the year. It was an emotionally draining time but I’m glad it didn’t stay that way. I was still adjusting to my new normal and dealing with a lot of wounds that God would later begin to heal. It unknowingly became the theme of my year: healing from the past and a new beginning. 

In February I returned to what I loved most — writing! My first article (and biggest hit of the year) back was the story of how I’d lost my eyesight in late 2020 and how Blessed Carlo Acutis’ intercession saved my life. I would slowly return to my weekly writing schedule for Epic Pew as the year progressed. I would also write three additional articles — my first in almost 4 years — for Verily Magazine. So far only one was been published but I’m excited for y’all to read the rest as they get scheduled. 

Lent: 

It became rather obvious that God had a lot of interior restorations to make in my heart. Our Lady of Sorrows accompanied me from Lent through my birthday in late May. God made me very aware of the wounds in my heart; wounds that were still open and had changed me for the worst. I started work on healing them during this time. Some wounds took longer to heal than others; some I’m still working on. But it was such a fruitful Lent that would lead me to the end of the most difficult year of my life (my 35th) and the “end of an era” full of illness, wounds, and suffering. 

Spring: 

My 36th year started off with a bang… and it was actually quite disastrous at first. Basically, I plucked up the courage to do something that I *had* to do — have an incredibly difficult but necessary conversation with someone who I was once very close to. It was full of closure that we both needed. It turned something very painful and bitter into something healing and beautiful. At least, it was for me. After that moment, everything changed and fell into place. It was at that moment that I knew my life would never be the same again… and I was right. 

Right before summer began I realized that the chapter to my “old life” had closed and a new chapter had begun. My Oblate master approved my Oblate name (Marie-Therese, in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Therese) and I began the countdown to my trip out to Clear Creek Abbey, which I was not expecting at the beginning of the year.

Summer:

Those who know me well know that the summertime is my least favorite season for many reasons, including the fact that up until this year, it was the season when i would always get sick and have the worst things happen to me. From almost losing my life in 2020 to seeing my father actually lose his life in 2009 (both in the month of July), I’ve had the worst memories of the summer. But one thing helped me end that string of bad summers: my trip to Clear Creek Abbey and my Final Act of Oblation. 

I don’t think I need to tell y’all how amazing that trip was for me. The day of my final promises (the feast of Queenship of Mary & Immaculate Heart of Mary) was the most beautiful day, even if I did end up getting sick right after the final promises. Oh yes, I didn’t share that but I think it was a combination of me not being physically ready for all that kneeling I did during the ceremony plus a prescribed vitamin I was taking that made me sick every time I took it (my doctor discontinued it weeks later). One of my lovely brothers — a monk at Clear Creek — was kind enough to wheel me up to the altar rail in a wheelchair because I felt too weak to walk and he did not want me to miss out on receiving the Eucharist. I think only my oblate sister and those who were there knew about it… until now. I was fine after resting after Mass. If you  read my blog post about the trip and ever wondered why Vespers that day was the only Office Hour I missed with the monks, that’s why! Still, I wouldn’t have traded any single moment at Clear Creek Abbey for anything in the world. Best. Day. Ever!   

The trip to Clear Creek in August also saw a new me. Or perhaps an old me I hadn’t seen in over a decade and a half. I had the most energy I’ve had in my entire adult life following the trip, something that has continued and even gotten better as the time has passed. For the first time in a long time, I no longer need naps throughout the day. I’ve been able to be more active and actually exercise, though in a way that doesn’t feel like forced exercise to me.

In early September I assembled my new bed… made out of wood (read: it’s heavy). Yes, my mother helped me keep parts together as I screwed and nailed the the pieces together but… I did it! I did it with my visual impairment. I had to figure out what part went where and what screwdriver I needed based solely on touch. It was hard and I had to redo a couple of things before I was done but I did it. It was probably one of my prouder moments this year. 

Autumn and Beginning of Winter:

I celebrated the 15th anniversary of my reversion with a no-holds-bar account of my life pre-reversion and how things have changed on this blog. 

My autumn was relatively quiet as I focused on writing and also recovery after a much-needed surgery and a mini health setback after some medication and lifestyle changes temporarily threw my system off. It wasn’t anything to worry about, just my body just needing rest and adjustment to the new changes. 

Before the surgery, I choreographed a ballet-modern dance dance. It was completely unexpected but it was the most freeing thing I’d done in a long time. It was also the first time I truly felt like the old me. I took everything I’ve seen and learned and let the music inspire me. I came up with something I really loved and was proud of doing it. My calves and feet hated me after but it was so wonderful to move with so much freedom for the first time since losing my eyesight. I actually started choreographing a new dance to a new song by the same producers last week but I’m going slower this time so I don’t overdo it. 

And that leads me to this: for the first time since before my reversion, I’ve felt like myself. The silly, bubbly (not my word), energetic me who couldn’t sit still for long and danced and sang every chance she got. The girl who loved much and deeply. But there were also some improvements. I also became the girl who didn’t care what others thought of her while still caring for others. I became the girl who didn’t feel like she had to prove anything to anyone while being aware that there’s a fine line between confidence bordering on pride and confidence with humility, the latter of which I’m still working on. I’m now the girl who is in love with life and Christ and that’s all that matters to me. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m finally who God has always meant me to b, it just took me a lot of spectacular falls and life lessons to get here. 

On the career front:

I don’t remember when it was exactly but I started work on novel four sometime in the spring or summer. It’s been exciting because it’s like nothing I’ve ever written before. I did research for it and, in many ways, it’s become the most challenging to write, visual impairment excluded. That’s all I’m saying for now. I’m aiming for a Spring 2022 release date but don’t quote me. With my eyesight and the fact that I have to do everything on my phone and Fire tablet, it’s going to be a longer process than usual. 

As for the rest, you can find all of my Epic Pew articles of 2021 (and, really, all articles from day 1) here and my latest for Verily Magazine here. 

Wrap up:

I started off the year in one of the lowest places I could’ve been but it changed and it ended up being one of my favorite years. I’m someone completely different… but not. God has let the good in me shine through while making me aware of my faults and humbling me through them. I find myself smiling, laughing and crying happy tears more often than not. I find the beauty in things and the silver lining in all things. I have a confidence that I’ve never experienced in my life and an energy that I hadn’t felt since my teens when I was heavily involved in sports and dance. I’m not afraid to be myself, believe what I believe, love what I love, and own up to and learn from my mistakes without beating myself up over them. I like who I became this year and I hope this new version of myself sticks around for a long time. 

I love that I’ve found myself doing things I’ve always loved but hadn’t enjoyed since before my father passed away 12 years ago. I’m enjoying simple pleasures that take me back to the beauty of life. I love that music is once again making me happy through dance, song, and even playing instruments. I love that the terms of endearment I used to use with friends have found themselves back in my vocabulary. I love that I once again feel love, after feeling so cold and closed off for so many years. 

I’m so grateful that God, through His infinite love and mercy, has helped me find myself again; has helped me remember who I am beneath all the sorrows and strife. He has opened my heart once again. He has shown me how much I love Christ and how Christ is the only man who could ever have my heart in its entirety. I’m so thankful that He has always reminded me how much He loves me despite my spectacular fails. 

I’m ending the year with this phrase: “I’m not afraid. I was born to do this.” That’s St. Joan of Arc. As someone who was born on her feast day and whose last name means “warrior” — I think the Holy Spirit is trying to tell me something. Perhaps it’s to not be afraid of what’s coming up; to trust that God will give me the graces necessary for whatever He has in store for me. 

To quote my forever saint crush, Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, “Verso l’alto!” To the heights. 

Goodbye, 2021! Thank you for giving me the most amazing year full of love, adventures, and some of the best memories I’ve made since high school. You were definitely my favorite year since 2005. 

Hello, 2022! I know what changes are coming up in the near future but I don’t know what other adventures I will have. I cannot wait to see what this new year will have in store for me and I’m excited to be able to share it all with y’all. 

Alright, I think that’s enough for now, don’t you think? lol. 

I hope you all have a lovely end of the year and a beautiful beginning of 2022! 

As always, thanks for reading and God bless!