I found myself a little too tired to get up from my computer one night this week and decided I should probably look into what the hundred+ drafts sitting unpublished on the blog really were. I found some great pictures from our stop in Key West last spring (how did I forget about those!), a few less than ideal outfit posts that I never thought were good enough to publish, and SO many fragments of posts I started and never finished. Some of them I meant to get back to, others required a bit more thinking, and many of them I can’t even remember writing.
And so today we have “from the cutting room floor” in blog post form (with pictures from the past two months that didn’t make it on the blog either). I desperately wanted to edit some of the posts, add some things, change others…but I left them in the state I drafted them sometime in the past few years (introductory italics added today):
Dear Diary (I don’t actually start any journal entry off like that)
I’m a feminist if:
feminism means that you believe men and women are equally important, equally valuable. Because they are.
But if being a feminist means you believe men and women are the same, then I will never be one.
Being married didn’t stop me from spending weeks competing in NYC in college, keeping up great relationships with my girl friends, or getting a degree (almost).
Being married has introduced me to a new world of loving, trusting, and serving. Its helped me be less selfish, more confident, and _____. Marriage gave me a new best friend, an additional set of friends, and a long term perspective on life that effects the way I treat myself, my goals, and other people.
Getting married young isn’t for everyone, and I am not trying to tell you to up and get married, or if that you aren’t married by 23 I think you should be. What I am saying is that for me (a girl who thought I’d get married a little before thirty), spending the first few years of my twenties as someone’s wife has been fantastic.
I don’t know where I was going with this one, but I’m grateful for the reminder to add more moments of quiet and reflection to my life:
In the quiet I know things that are sometimes hard to remember in the everyday noise. In the stillness I remember, and pray that it takes longer to forget.
I think I was going to launch into the wonderful mothers I’d made friends with in Cincy (and goodness, do those women deserve a post of their own). Also, Condalleezza Rice’s memoirs is a fantastic read:
On our way home from D.C. we finished listening to Condalleezza Rice’s memoirs and it got me thinking (about affirmative action, racism, and the need for more strong women republicans, among other things). She often talked about the prominent role of mentors in her development.
As I approach this new stage of life, I am becoming ever more grateful for the role models of motherhood I have. Of course, I have an amazing mother. She was raised by an amazing mother, and I was lucky to have my dad’s angelic mother live with us for ten years in New Hampshire. I learned a lot about motherhood before I even realized I’d grow up one day.
Years later, this is still very true.
In the end, and in the beginning and middle, people are what matter.
I love my people.
I think about this every few months:
I love seeing friends share pictures of their wedding from years ago on social media. Its the usual caption about it being their favorite day that makes me think. Was our wedding my very favorite day?