I want...

I want to give a TED talk on the importance of a youth truly informed about politics

I want to travel all around America and help victims of natural disasters

I want to write emotional pieces that inspire a positive change

I want to help the men, women, and children liberated from sex slavery

I want to sing in my churches choir

I want to someday teach a Sunday school class

I want to help the neglected youth of America

I want to help kids in alternative classrooms realize that they can be so much more than what others say

I want to wake up sparks in people that turn into motivated fires

I want to spend the rest of my life dancing in the rain, because rain is a blessing

I want to spend the rest of my life, in love with life

I want to spend the rest of my life, overjoyed at the sight of a smile from someone I love

I want other people to look at me and realize that they can also achieve their wildest and seemingly craziest ambitions

I want to spend the rest of my life, laughing with the love of my life.

I want my kids to learn the value of their sibling bond

I want my kids to have best friends that they laugh with

I want them to feel freedom, and a love so perfect that fear doesn't exist

I want to speak at high schools all around America, sharing a message of optimism

I want a family that loves adventure as much as I do

I wanna wake up every day for the rest of my life, and praise God for remembering to wake me up again

I want to make the people around me feel 100% better, just because

I want the world to wake up, to a glorious Son. The Son who saves.

I want to shout His praise from the tops of buildings and cars and hills

I don't want to forget. 

It is a glorious day, my people. The sun is shining on your face. No matter how cloudy, there is a light. Lean in. Absorb it. Allow it to fill you, so that you become it. Lets be millions of points of light, full of joy and love.

What do you want?

Best friends

Listen to me.


Do you remember, as a kid, having that one really good best friend? I had two. Both at different times, neither are currently my friends, although none of us hate each other. We grew apart.  I'm gonna use this blog post to reflect on both. I changed their names just cause I wasn't sure. So yeah.

The first one, I will call April. I met her when I was in the third grade. I can still remember. I used to sit at the front of the bus and listen to the bus driver say her name every day. This went on for a month or so before I got the courage to call her over to come sit with me. I can still picture my second grade self calling her over to my seat, and seeing her alarmed expression. I thought for sure she would reject me. She didn't know my name, I had just moved out to the country and got put on her bus route, but she didn't reject me, and that was the first day.

After that, we were almost inseparable. We used to wake up at 6 AM and go to each others houses. I still don't know how we convinced our parents to allow that. We would ride our bikes, pet horses, play with dogs, sing Taylor Swift as loud as we could, we had sleepovers on her trampoline and we even had almost the same little Hello Kitty stereo. We used to get in trouble for the amount of time we spent talking over the phone with each other. She would call me as soon as she got home from school, because from the time we dropped her off at her driveway to the time I got back to my house was about the same. We basically lived at each others houses. One time, we ate an entire box of fudge pops together. While swimming in a really big water thing for cows that we turned into a swimming pool.

We watched the Hannah Montana movie together, and then sang and danced to "Hoedown Throw down" for the talent show when I was in the 4th grade. Right around then is also when our relationship started to get rocky.  I was becoming obsessed with Harry Potter, and she was getting tired of it. We started to fight more and more and eventually we just had this really ugly split and we weren't friends till both of us were in high school, and we became team mates on the cheer team.

In the 5th grade, I met the most exotic creature I had ever seen. Her hair was dyed, she had these beautiful freckles, her eyes were amazing. She had this bright freshness about her that told me she was not from Enterprise. We were watching our sisters volleyball practice. I'm not completely sure how it all went down, but she cut her heel really bad on this metal gate our school has set up, going into the junior high, and her bloody footprint was still on the concrete the day I graduated from EHS. I'll refer to her as Blue. We were instant besties. I still remember waiting for her bright pink hair to show up on the first day of school so I could take her to class and show her around. I had never seen anyone at EHS like her. Ever.

We soon started having sleepovers. She lived in a huge house and had her very own room. We would make huge messes in the kitchen, making all sorts of pastries like cake pops and waffles. Blue would do my makeup and give me clothes and talk about her life in catholic school. Soon we were old enough to ride our bikes the 4 miles into town. So thats what we did in the summer. We would ride our bikes to get milkshakes and pizza, and have to peddle home completely bloated. We went on these dragon slayer adventures, we would download the Lord of the Rings sound track and pack a lunch and use old wrapping paper rolls as swords. We would slay dragons all after noon, adventuring across a hill behind her house. We would sleep on her trampoline and wake up at midnight to jump in the pool, come in the house freezing cold and soaking wet, and make a mess while making cocoa.

Her mom worked nights, so in the morning, she would bring us home doughnuts for breakfast. She would take us on adventures to towns close to us, and she would always turn up our fav song to sing together "Ice Ice Baby" by Vanilla Ice. I can still remember the lake days, the entire brand new lifestyle that Blue and her family gave me. She really was my best friend. Then one day, she just didn't respond to my texts. Or my calls. She ignored me at school, once it started again.

I was heart broken. For months, at random times, I would just think about her and dissolve into tears.  I held a lot of pain in my heart, and a bit of resentment, and today I just had a random thought.

Just because it ended, just because its over, just because it hurt really bad going down. That doesn't mean I didn't still have millions of laughs and thousands of moments under the sunshine of friendship. Just because I don't have her anymore, doesn't mean that I don't have those memories. Little Georgia has so many beautiful memories. Breaking up didn't take away the years I had, the memories we made. I don't really know why it took me so long to remember that.

Just because we lose people or things, does not mean that we lose the affect they had on us, and the way they enriched our lives.

 So lets remember that.

Magic Strings

Imagination is a powerful element in the life of a child. That wish becomes reality when we learn to fabricate things in out mind, enabling us to clock out of real life, without having to move. I was a very creative kid, there was no doubt about that. I had an imagination like you could not believe. I later learned that that's a coping strategy for kids in stressful situations (ie dealing with bullies).


I was overflowing with ideas. I had plans and hopes and dreams and I loved reading. My books could take me anywhere.  By the 4th grade, I was reading high school level books, or higher. My mother had told me that reading was a way of escaping. I started to create scenarios in my head. My showers became hair shampoo commercials, red carpet runway speeches, Presidential inauguration speeches, and beauty pageants galore. I was being soaked in an environment where it was okay and encouraged to not like myself. Where it was encouraged to be anything but myself. School wasn't a supportive environment for me; I wasn't even sure I belonged there. I fabricated myself these fantasies that I was somewhere else, that the body I was in was just a stand in. I would play with guitar strings tacked to my wall, till I was no longer Georgia Falk, but someone else entirely. They were my magic strings.



I wished and wished that my magic strings could truly work. I played them and played them till I would lose my mind and end up in a world I had read about. Pretty soon, reality and my mind had gotten so mixed that I often forgot that I wasn't actually going different places when I played my strings. I could lay still in my bed after plucking a string, and feel the world around me spin. I could feel the colors blurring and mixing in the dark, I could feel the temperature changing as I lay still, listening to the sound of myself leaving my house. I could hear the beach waves, or the bustle of Hogwarts. I was Juliet, begging Romeo to stop this insanity.



Then one day, my magic string broke, but I didn't feel the need to replace it. I wasn't hungry for the world to spin. I wasn't desperate for a change of scenery. I was too tired to work my brain. So instead I lay still, night after night, and forgot about my adventures. I had a notebook. It was a gross pink red color. I hated the color pink. I still do. Inside, it contained all my adventures. All the little thoughts that ran through my mind. Some of it made a song, other parts made a poem, and some of it was just drawings repeated over and over till one deformed flower became a flower that look semi normal.


Why do we imagine safe spaces, become brilliant thinkers, create alternate universes, become time travelers, crack the mind of Confucius, and save the world from ultimate destruction, over, and over, and over again, just so we can forget we were ever more then tired teenage bodies that hate homework? Why is it that we tell each other that we were insane back in those days, when in reality, the day we became what we are is the day we lost our minds? Why does growing up mean losing creativity?


As a kid, I knew how to solve world hunger. I knew the answers to world peace. I had the perfect formula to being a good best friend. Why do we choose to forget that the sun used to be a bright yellow corner on a white sheet of paper? I am reading a book for my college class right now, and its crazy. Everyone who has looked at it has said "looks like they were on drugs"


But why? Why is it that thats how we view things? Why do we lose our creativity so much that others creativity looks like a druggie did it? Why do we forget how to play with legos and crayons and play dough? Why do we forget how exciting it is to think of all the beautiful things?


Guys, maybe today is a good day to sit down with a pen or a pencil and just draw lines. We've all lost our minds, and claim that people who haven't, are just crazy. Maybe its time to find your mind again. Winter is coming anyways.

comparison

I'm about to get really real and I have no idea how crazy I am going to sound


I compare! Ghaaaa I compare myself everywhere. Its a cruel addiction I've got myself hooked on. I'm not talking like "oh I have better shoes" or "wow shes so pretty and I'm just..." cause yeah I do that too, but I mean like.

I search people out. I intentionally find people that I know make me feel small, just by looking at them. I see so much of myself in them that I get scared. That I am devoured with insecurity. I debilitate myself in malls, convincing myself that every little glance is judgmental and hateful. I catch glimpses of my imperfect skin in mirrors or see the way my jeans fit. I see girls with their long glossy hair and perfectly manicured nails and eyebrows and I feel like I'm scum. Then I mentally promote it in myself.

Even if I walk into a building feeling really good about myself. It takes no time at all for me to feel like the little kid who was playing in her moms closet and makeup. To feel like the fat little ugly girl trying to be a cool girl.

I just really aggressively hate myself sometimes.

Yet, it goes deeper. Its not just about how I look. I'm not that self consumed. But then, maybe I am. which is bad and I shouldn't do that. Oh my gosh, what if I'm shallow? I can already hear people telling me that I am too self obsessed and that I shouldn't feel like everyone would give me that attention. How vain of me.  I'm repulsed at my self obsession. Wait, no. I'm mad. Why are you mad at me for having an insecurity? Do you think its my fault I became this? Not saying its your fault...

And it spirals. Deeper and deeper and deeper and it sits inside of me and insecurity and self doubt and all of these thoughts just plague me. Part of me feel like I am unworthy of standing in the presence of these people, and part of me is mad at myself for feeling like anyone cares, part of me is mad at the others for making me feel like that and yet another part of me is mad at the angry side because I'm just acting like a baby. My pants don't fit right. My body is disproportionate. Maybe if I lost 20 pounds. Why am I so disgusting.

People think I like shopping. I do not. Please. Don't make me go shopping. My mom shopped for me. Which she will deny. But I cried every time we went shopping. I'd be a brat over lunch because I had to go jean shopping earlier. I feel like even the girls heavier than me just, wear it better.

So why am I bringing this up now? Because I spent tonight harshly comparing myself to how similar I was to someone else and I let it destroy me while I smiled and said "no, nothing is wrong"

I know I am not the only one. This is unhealthy. This obsession with intentionally degrading myself to build others. These people don't even know me. They have never seen me and I will probably never see them again. Yet, in my head, I beat myself further and further into the ground. Its disgusting.

BUT THERE IS LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL. 

You are not stuck there. I am not stuck there. We are never trapped inside our own heads. Its time we ask for the keys back, and kick down the bars we made for ourselves. Its not easy for me to go into a mall. I don't even buy anything. I just walk around. Maybe go into the stores and look at clothes. Eventually, I will be brave enough to try them on. Do not let your fear own you. Do not let that ugly secret hide in the dark and devour you in silence. You are brave, you are good. There are a lot of things I have no talked about on this blog that I would like to talk about, I just don't know how to start the conversation. Maybe we just need to drop it in the water and let it go. Bring it to the light. Pain grows in darkness, making the darkness itself grow. Stop letting it grow.

Going to the mall is one small step. I am growing. I am becoming. I am fear conquering. I'm just some girl from a town in Oregon hardly anyone has heard of, but I have my own story and its pretty big. Come out of hiding, lets do this together.

 Lets smash our fears, one moment at a time.

Home Sick

I like solid facts. Dependability, I guess. I suck at math. Like, ask my high school math teachers. Yet, oddly enough, I love statistics. I like solid evidence. I guess maybe that will help me be a good journalist, because I want to know everything. I want the whole truth and I want to know that I have all the facts from all the sides.

So naturally, when my teacher told me that, according to statistical evidence,  the first three months away from home would be the worst, I was over joyed. I knew leaving was going to be hard on me, but I had an anchor. Three months. Thats all I had to survive. When the first month passed, and I looked back and realized that I hadn't cried much and that I was doing pretty good, I was hecka excited. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad! Month two flew by. I had two families that I spent all my time with. The Agnors, and the Wisors. I pretty much spent every evening at the Wisors house, hanging out with Jack and William. Their mom welcomed me in, and I felt like I was home. Then I'd go back to the Agnors, and the boys were running around. I took care of them after school. Teased them while they played video games, talked to Luke about running... It was all very good.

Hello October, and buckets of tears. I wasn't expecting the third month to hit me like a freight train. I miss my mom. I miss my brother. So bad. I miss cheesy Halloween movies and the way the trees look by now. I miss cheerleading, and I miss football. I miss hunting season. I really just... miss home.

When I hang out with Jack and William and their family, we watch football. Like. We are allowed to yell and back talk the refs. Its so fun. At this point, Mrs. Wisor kinda just plans on me coming over after William gets off work. To me, its crazy. William and I take Jack to the mall, and we go to hobby lobby and look around, we go to tons of toy stores, and we even go to Barns & Nobles! Jack and I always push all the buttons on the toys that make noise, cause its funny to watch William get *mad* at us. Its no secret though, I can always see his smile.

Jack is a fun little dude. I never anticipated having a 9 year old friend as one of my better friends in college, however, I learn a lot from him. He is amazing at creating things with Legos, hes artistic with clay, hes diligent with his spelling homework every night, and hes not afraid to have fun. I have seen full-out nurf wars go down in that house. At the end of the night, hes still excited to snuggle down next to me and show me his video games and ask me how to spell his screen name.

I feel at home. Yet I miss my own so much. Jacob (my biological brother, just to clarify) and I used to lay on the dirt road after a run, or just a long day, and look at the stars. Closer to me moving, we'd lay on my bedroom floor with sheet masks on and giggle about stupid things that were not funny. I don't even know why we laughed. Every time I call mom and hes home, he picks up the phone and its at least a half hour before my mom gets her own phone back, because Jake and I can talk for hours. He texted me today to tell me that hes going to bake for me when I come home.

When I get on the phone with my mom, we just talk for hours. Or. We could, but we both have things to do. We talk about the colors of the trees and we talk about how Bath & Body works has updated to their Fall sense. I tell her about college and how weird it is, we talk about church and my dad.

In Spokane, I drive the same places, do the same things, and yet I hardly ever see the same face twice. Even the people in the grocery store seem to be always changing. At home, I knew everyone. I went different places and did different things. I always knew someone. There was always someone I had some connection to. Someone knew my parents, and there for, knew me. No matter where I went. It was still home.

Now, I'm not saying that I don't love Spokane, because I do. I love living in the city. I love having a boyfriend and my two close friends that I knew before I moved up here. I love Williams family and I love the Agnors. I love having access to Walmart and a mall, all within 30 min and not 2.5 hours, just to get a Walmart. The mall was like, 4 hours away! In a different state!

I want to know how I have changed. Whats different about me? Thats one thing I keep thinking about. Its not something that I thought of when I left, but even as I change, my home changes too. My brother turned 17 when I was gone. He completely redesigned our bathroom. My parents have a new TV remote. Like, small things. Some pretty major things have happened too, though. I wonder if its weird for my mom to have memories of who I was, and then have me come home, who I am. I also wonder if my mom misses that Georgia like I do.

I miss home.