It’s WILD to me that 7 years ago, this girl ran a half marathon in San Diego.
Why is that so wild?
Well, for one – did you see the part about me RUNNING?
Secondly, it was in SAN DIEGO. You know, where I now live
And, thirdly, I can’t believe this is me.
At this point in time, I had literally ZERO idea that I’d ever get to live here. It didn’t cross my mind. At the time this picture was taken, I knew a few things for sure:
I knew that there were just certain things that weren’t available for me, so why even bother trying or daring to dream about them?
I knew that no matter how hard I worked, how diligent I was, or how much I performed in practice, I wasn’t *really* going anywhere
I knew that this was the peak. This moment was a pinnacle for me, and I couldn’t imagine anything topping it. And at the same time, I was disappointed that *this* was my peak. A race. A run. Really? Something I don’t even care that much about, but felt like the only thing I could even remotely accomplish.
I knew that the hype would soon fade, and I’d shortly be returning to Seattle (where I was severely depressed, couldn’t make ends meet, and where I would soon – though didn’t know this at the time of this photo – be asking my parents if I could move in with them across the state because I couldn’t pay my bills.)
I knew I was miserable, and this was just how things were going to be for me.
This picture simultaneously captured one of the highest highs of my life, as well as some of the deepest sadness I’d ever known.
Maybe you don’t see what I see
Maybe you see a happy girl who just earned a medal by completing a huge feat
Maybe you see a big smile and a thumbs up, indicating a big win
Maybe you see a healthy girl who’s thrilled with her accomplishment
I see sadness.
I see so many unhealed wounds of self disappointment.
I see so much untapped potential.
I see so much worry.
I see a girl who didn’t know how to get out of her own way.
I see a girl who so desperately wants out of the cage she’d been living in, but has no idea where to even begin.
I see frustration, and exhaustion, and insecurity.
I see hopelessness.
Gosh. This picture takes me back Like, it literally doesn’t make sense to me when I know the life I’m living now. I don’t recognize her as me – it’s a very strange consideration to know someone, and know the facts about them, but to no longer be that person.
The girl I see today, looking back at me in the mirror, is *actually* healthy. She’s *actually* happy. Her big smile is *actually* genuine. And I’m so grateful to see that she’s *actually* learned a few more things since then:
I know that I’ve been given massive desires, dreams, and goals, and my God can do exceedingly, abundantly beyond what I can ask or think.
I know that how hard I work, perform, or strive doesn’t determine my value or identity.
I know that while that half marathon was definitely a highlight, it pales in comparison to victories I’ve had since then. It was a peak inside of my valley, but far from the end all be all.
I know that I love where I live, I’m truly joyful, and I fully get to pay my bills while actually enjoying what I do!
I know that there is no limit to where God can take me when we partner together, and that dark season was truly just a blip on the radar.
Even though my battle with depression was nearly 2 decades of my life, the exponential catapulting into joy, purpose, and LIVING LIFE shows me that the blip is long past, and the rest of my life will be the best of my life!
It’s WILD to me that 7 years from now, this girl won’t even recognize her life
God, I don’t know how this journey together is going to look, but I’m here for every ounce of it!