Seeking Perfection

Fact...I have never worn a bikini.  Not even once.  Not even when I was 3. I own them.  A few.  I adore these little prizes once or twice a year.  I imagine if I really believed I was all that.  I mean I'm a Miami girl. And beach season come, there’s not much left to imagine out on SOBE.  Call it modesty.  But I’ve just never been that...perfect.

I’m the girl in search of perfection.  The girl that keeps working.  And wanting.  And sweating.  And lifting.  And stretching.  And blading. And building.  And trying to be uhmmm...well...perfect.  And if I was I guess I would flaunt that two-piece in the sun and sand like a bronzed summer goddess.

But it’s this lid.  This cap on me.  This quest for perfection that drives me on and pushes me...and limits me.  My story isn’t my best, so I put the pencil down.  Any other strictly and definitely and only shower singers out there? And yeah, I will arm wrestle you or edit your essay in a second because I know I can do it with my eyes closed.

We all have lids though.  Limitations.  Boundaries that hold us back.  And keep us frozen.  Afraid of failure.  Or lack of perfection.  The truth is...I’m not sure perfection is real.  Or attainable.  Or healthy.  Maybe it’s the quest that makes us better and we should applaud our stories or our vocals or our bodies.  Because some smart person said, “I was born to make mistakes, not fake perfection.”  I have to believe that looking for perfection is the best motivation we could have, but the idea of perfect is so absolutely imperfect.

So I’ll admit it’s a lot easier to bare my soul than my abs, but what about you? Your lids? The caps in your life?  What’s been holding you back?

Here’s to the hope of gorgeous summers in metallic bikinis and killer articles and removing the lids and the caps and embracing our imperfections for all that they aren’t.

About A Boy

My stomach was swelled to watermelon status...at least 10 1/2 months and waiting.  Fat, swollen feet...runner girl had become waddle mama. 

The wood, the tile, the paint colors handpicked by yours truly, had transformed into our dream house, just outside of Memphis, Tennessee. Baby 2 was joining our team any day.  

But without reason or rhyme, overnight our world exploded into absolute chaos...we suddenly and necessarily transitioned from the job my husband was in; we had been deeply betrayed and hurt by a couple we had called friends.  Just a  few weeks before Christmas, we were left without a way to even buy presents for our 2 year old.  

There was one last sonogram before my maternity insurance lapsed and as I lay looking at my growing baby boy, the ultrasound technician notified me that she was concerned about the results.  She went on to explain that my baby only had one kidney.  There wasn’t a part of kidney.  Nor was it underdeveloped.  It simply was not.  Her advice was to seek a second opinion but the tone in her voice left me worried and confused.  Thoughts flooded like a storm through my mind.

Job...Christmas...betrayal...and now this...

But somehow in all this I whispered a prayer.  A whisper was all I had.    

The doorbell rang a few days later and it may as well have been God in the flesh.  A group of our Filipino friends had heard of our circumstances and they showed up with presents for our little girl and showered us with gifts also.

My husband began working in a field he had never been trained for.  It meant working outdoors in the harsh Tennessee winter and it was more than a challenge.  But he had always managed to shine and quickly ascended the corporate ladder.  This meant relocating to Nashville in a flash. We moved from our Barbie house to a tiny apartment.  

Then Britain David Stocker entered the scene.  8.8...a chunk of a man, but entirely whole and completely healthy...perfect lips and butterball cheeks.  And in this dark season...he was HOPE...a promise of new life...that there was SO much ahead...this was just the beginning...love would win out.

Somehow hope had danced it’s way right back into our lives. 

Six years later, he has lassoed my heart.  All the creative passion and artistic vision of me and the unbridled humor and playfulness of his daddy.

Sometimes after 13 miles...when I want nothing more than to be laying in the cool grass somewhere...after delusions have set in and I wonder why I’m actually deranged enough to keep doing this...I begin to think of all the things I would run to. And it gets me there. I consider how I would sprint to a sick child...or to my book on the bestseller list...or to lives being changed...or if my guy was in trouble...and finally I imagine that beautiful, gorgeous blond haired baby...and all is well with the world...him, with the incandescent blue eyes and the sparkling, gummy grin.  And I imagine his arms reaching out and him saying, “Mommy, let me lay on your belly...Mommy, I love you” and then everything makes sense, my energy surges, and I zoom to my finish.  

Because even in the dark seasons...when the struggle is real...there is always hope.  You might have to run to it.  But if you just keep running, I promise...sooner or later...the delusions will fade...the struggle will cease...and you will catch it.

Royals

Wondering right now about your Weekend of Love? Single Awareness Day? Stupid Cupid? Shout out to those who resisted the urge to target darts at your exes pic or devil’s horns with Sharpies or post hate comments on IG. Because you’re better than all that. Whether you reveled in or repulsed the chocolate and teddy bears and little chubby, naked guys flying around, I do wish that some moment in that heart-fluffed day managed to bring happy smiles to you.

A lot of love in my life for Valentine’s 2014...partied the night away with 90 of Miami’s best and brightest young adults @centralchurchonline...doing what we do best...life!  The most brilliant girls I know, made this love affair picture perfect!  And...can’t forget to mention...we all celebrated late night, my one and only’s feliz cumpleanos!  Happy Birthday, Baby!

Finally, I am dying to hear your love stories...please do post!  

Runner Girl audience has been asking for this epic tale of romance and it  should really be front and center somewhere trending in cyberspace. At least that’s my opinion. Hopeless romantics brace yourselves.  This one is timeless and always, always magical in the retale.

I was 23...ready...waiting...pins and needles...for life...to...to...happen... determined there was more to me than schoolteaching it in Missouri to Old Maid status.  Traveling to Nepal or feeding Africa’s children or possibly educating Columbian orphans, sounded magnificent and I was travel-ready. Unexplainably, they just weren’t right for me. My mind was pleading, “Please... for the love of God...get me out of the midwest!”  So I did the thing I knew to do.  I prayed.  I got really desperate and undoubtedly serious.  And I prayed. I made a deal that I would give everything as long as I knew where to give it to. Then somehow straight out of the heavens...it came to me...move to Florida.  “Uhmmm...did I hear that right?  Florida?”  But it was resonating deep in my spirit and thoughts and this new excitement was exploding from every ounce of me.  My epiphany moment had happened and I had to go.  

So I took my talents to South Beach.  I caught a flight to Miami.  Sat on the beach.  Indulged in cafesitos (sweet baby Jesus). Touched the sand. Devoured tres leches.  Sipped coconut milk...straight from the fruit. And embraced my destiny.  Because I finally got it.  My purpose...my calling...my reason for being...was bigger than I could have ever imagined...and yes, my post-college life, was emerging. 

By my second flight, I was job fairing it in Ft. Lauderdale and blind dating it by night.  And I figured what the heck to some random mystery guy of a friend of a friend, because I didn’t know another living soul in the 305.  I opened the sliding glass door and it was all unicorns and stars and fireworks for my blue-eyed boy.  Apparently...I had him at hello...and I didn’t even know.  I hadn’t even been looking. But that’s how destiny sweeps you off your feet...when you’re not expecting it.  When you’ve decided you didn’t even need it.

A phone call the next day, a sharing of emails, overwhelming, lingering, I-don’t-want-to-hang-up convos...and somehow I had stumbled straight into love...unlike anything I had ever known or could describe or had ever felt.  This was undeniably, no doubts, bells and glitter and Skittles, can’t eat, can’t sleep, can barely breathe...the-stuff-dreams-are-made-of kind of love.

And all the other toads didn’t stand a chance against this completely kissable Romeo.  Yes sir, you can call me Juliet anytime.  He was every single expectant thing on my list and then some...confidant...hilarious...crazy, wild hair...musician-type...uhmm...err...my type...and he even paid for my meals (now that’s a thought worth considering boys). So that’s when you know.  You have to be his...when...he takes care of you...stands up for you...challenges you to be better.  This is what true princes do.  They fight for you.  They rescue you. And he is still coming to my defense 12 years later. 

We don’t have to chase down our happily ever afters.  True royals stop kissing frogs; embrace the queen within; climb down from the safety of their towers and their walls...even if it means walking away from everything you’ve known...without looking back.  If Cinderella had returned for that glimmering slipper, she would never have become queen.  Don’t let the thoughts of the past keep you from walking forward...willing to take a risk...believe in a fairytale...chance it...allowing life not to make sense... discovering the royal within.

Royals are born to wealth and grace and dignity and purpose and endless possibilities.  My guy and I are still rich in love, because we understand that wealth is not what you have but who you are and how you live each day. Now and forever, don’t let a second go by without walking with your head held high, poised, strong, determined, courageous, pure, total abandon, heart full of love...you will be the richest this world has ever seen.  #youareroyal

Mean Girls

Never did actually watch the movie.  But I get it.  And however painful it is to admit or think, they exist.  Mean girls.  From elementary to grown up girls...they’re out there.  Not to sound cynical about life.  Because I believe we can be both optimists and realists.

At your workplace...at the Macy’s fragrance counter...could be in the family...maybe even at church.  Perhaps reality or maturity or sensitivity never really set in...but at 30 something I’ve encountered it.  The snub...the hushed talking when you get close by...the overbearing, competitive personalities...the indirect statements that directly slam you...the lack of an invite.  And I guess after all this time I still don’t get it.  Call me naive or simple, but even if I tried, it never felt right to be mean.  

Growing up, my best friend was my twin brother.  I played kickball, camped in backyard tents, built forts, nursed stray animals, and even a matchbox car race or two.  And this runner girl also played Barbies and sold girl scout cookies and loved me some baby dolls. Somewhere around the 7th grade a fantastic thought sparked in me...boys might be more than besties and I discovered the power of primping.  But boys always=more real, no drama, and time after time, less mean.

No amount of fashion or makeup or friends can make up for authenticity, inner beauty, and purity of heart.  Here’s my advice ladies:  Say no to cliques. Save the drama. Kill them with kindness.  Stay sweet. Exercise patience.  Live honestly. There is something to be said of good girls. Be nice. You ARE not alone. In the end, nice and good and sweet, speak louder than the mean girls ever could.

                                                                             

All The Single Ladies

I am surrounded by beautiful people...makeup artists, technological wizards, cooking divas, workout queens, office professionals, attorneys in the making, #1 Moms...they are intelligent, thoughtful, ambitious, disciplined, single, hilarious, never been married, previously married, kids, or no kids...women.  These are the girls I laugh with, text with, get fit with, dance with, sing karaoke with, eat ice cream with, and experience the best of everyday with.

Valentine’s Day is always on my radar, not only because I love to love, be in love, give love, and live love, but my favorite guy is a cupid baby (February 15th he will finally be catching me in the age game).  And less than 3 weeks away, the public is speaking...or should I say panicking?  And their cry sounds something like “Who will be my Valentine?”

So, I blog today for all the single ladies.  I’m thinking don’t sweat the date.  I’m saying skip phone call waiting and number exchanging and instagram love and the worry and the wondering. Because 2 1/2 weeks out from the Day of Love, your heart should be happy and whole...

Single ladies...sieze the day.  Eat chocolate,  schedule a movie night, mani/pedis, shopping with the girls, late-night talks...these are the common cure while you wait for the uncommon man.  Love yourself this Valentine’s Day.  Love love, give love, express love, speak love, and live love...and the being in love...the falling in love...will come.  

Travel to Europe. Backpack in Paris. Bring presents to children in Ecuador.   Invent something. Write a book. Solve world hunger. Sit for late hours in a corner coffee shop...people watching, thinking beautiful, insane thoughts. Remember the things that make you smile. Run barefoot in the sand, dodging washed up jellyfish along the way. (And from personal experience, this one is epic!) 

Have simple faith. Pray. Take long walks, breathe deep; consider what a lucky girl you are to have such an opportunity to do whatever’s in your heart.  Live your dreams.  Find yourself along the way. Work every second to make them happen.  Become the envy of your high school and college friends. It’s not another person who completes you.  You are exquisite by the way you live your life and the way you give back to the world.  Become the best version of yourself so that when love does come...and I promise it will...when the time is right...when you are exactly ready...under God...love will see how completely complete you really are.

Happy Love Day!

“And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love.  But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13