It's So Easy.

It's so easy...

to make someone into a villain.

when they're not around.

Wouldn't you agree?

Of course you would.

You already did.

And I'm sorry for it.

Was your goal to hurt me?

Congratulations.

Success.

But you know what?

I'm at peace.

It's not my place to retaliate.

Because it'll come back to you.

I know it will.

God bless you.

You're in my prayers.

Always.

Reminisce with me, eh?

If anyone actually manages to read this entire post, I applaud you. Seriously. I get a lot of thoughts out through writing, so my writing may seem really self-centered, but when I write is really the only time I focus on what I'm feeling. I'm sorry.

I ate a Rolo today, for the first time in about seven years. Had a flashback.

And since that flashback I have categorically remembered several pieces of my life and pieced together an interesting timeline. It's strange how many astronomically different pieces already make up my life - and I'm only 15.

The Forgotten Era

Obviously, I don't really remember this time in my life. From infancy to around 3 years of age. The only things I know for sure are:

There was a BIG TV in our house. Or maybe it was a small TV that seemed big to a toddler.

I was a pretty, pretty little girl. (Who knows what happened, eh?)

My brother hated me.

I nearly died in a car accident with my father.

My brother convinced me to jump off the bed. In doing so, I hit my head on the dresser. I had 7 staples in my little-kid head. There's still a spider pattern on my head if you look through the hair. Pretty cool.

~~~

The Pain Era

Memories are still fuzzy here, but not as much. Age 4 to 7 years.

I won't go into much detail in this, suffice to say that I went through more physical pain during these years than at any other point in my life.

Oh. And I had an amazing first grade teacher.

The Safe Era

From age 8 to age 10.

Dramatic shifting...

Including no more pain, and starting puberty. Hooray for adolescence.

Put the dominant memory of that time is thinking over and over and over again, "no more pain."

This is when the Rolo memory happened. I was at the grocery stor with my father and we were at the check-out counter. I did what every little kid does - I begged for candy off the rack next to the checker. Usually he would say 'no' but that time he let me get a pack of Rolo. He shouldn't have, since even then I was supposed to be monitoring my sugar closely, but he did and there were no bad repercussions. It's just a small, happy memory of giggling with my dad and pulling one over on my mom ;) ... It was before dinner, too.

This was when my grades started picking up more and I started to realize that I could sort of do things...sort of. I started to realize I might actually come to do good things, be a good person.

Unfortunately, this was also the time I was most hurt by peers - reaching 'adolescence' to early, already being awkward and self-conscious, on top of being fragile and starting to learn about myself, I discovered how cruel children can be. But that's just life, eh?

This is the age where I wish my parents had exposed me more to athletics. I've noticed that the kids who grew up with athletics tend to be better at them. But hey, I may never have been good at sport, no matter about my parents. No use being sore about that, right?

The 11 Era

Obviously, this was when I was eleven years old. It gets its own spot on the timeline because of all the things that happened when I was that age. It's funny that the year I matured more than any other was just before I was a Baha'i...Hmm.

On my eleventh birthday, I made the first serious mistake I've ever made. That's a story that could make up an entire too-long blog post by itself. It was the first time my parents were seriously mad at me over something within my control. And boy, were they MAD. For about 6 months they hardly spoke to me, except to lecture me about what an idiot I was (am).

Thus, that year was when I really learned to fend for myself. I learned to cook for myself, to make sure I did my own homework, to find my own ride to school in the morning...the list goes on. Excepting working to monetarily support myself, this was the year where I became self-sufficient. I know some people seem to think I'm mature (don't ask me...) and this is probably the reason for it.

This is when I started developing strong morals. Being in sixth grade, basically the start of middle school, and without much parental support or guidance, I had to figure out for myself how to deal with the sudden pressure to date, smoke, drink, be popular...all of it. I had to figure out how to handle myself without falling into those traps.

It was a difficult but extremely rewarding year.

The Baha'i Era

12 to FOREVERRRRRRRR!!

I found the Baha'i Faith. Or rather, the Baha'i Faith found me.

Sometimes life is just sweet. So so sweet.

The ability to let go of material things...the ability to serve Him and to serve humanity! Oh wow.

I'd say my life turned 360, but it didn't. I wasn't necessarily a bad person up to the point when I joined the Faith, but ... my ability to fulfill the potential God gave me...has increased 100fold...

During this period of my life, right now, my family life is rocky at best...but that's okay. It really is. Because I have the Faith. And nothing else really matters more than that, you know?

I feel so much better now. Allah-u-abha!!

Love you! And YOU! Aaaaaand YOU too!

Need to Vent

I'm sorry in advance. This is a slightly bitter post. I'm just tired and angry - mostly at myself.
`

Everyone has a few people who impact us directly. These people are usually our parents/gaurdians, siblings, closest friends, religious leaders, and teachers/coworkers/bosses.

The thing is, I'm really tired of not being good enough - not for my teachers, sibling, friends, the kids in the children's classes/jr. youth group, the people who are relying on me...but most importantly, I'm not good enough for myself, my mother and my father.

I can't tell who has the highest expectations of me. But I seem to even fail the ones who want nothing!

Every week at least one of the youth tells me they don't want to come anymore, that they didn't enjoy themselves. I have trouble figuring out who's kidding and who's serious - a couple come only because their parents force them. My efforts don't seem to matter, whether I let it be spontaneous or whether I plan until my notes make me feel ill, it doesn't seem to be good enough.

My teachers should be the easiest to please - all they expect is for my work to be turned in. Oops, I messed that one up.

My parents are a different story entirely, I guess. They're the most challenging to please - in fact, I've never really managed it. Forever inadequate, unable to meet their demands, unable to perform as well as they expect.

And my poor brother. All he wants/expects is for someone to listen to him and encourage him. And by the time I get to him, I'm so angry and upset with myself for coninually failing that I get frustrated and snap at him. I love my brother, more than anything. I hate making him sad.

Mostly though, it's no one's fault but mine - I have the ability to do what's expected of me. If I didn't have the ability, why would anyone expect it?

I need to focus more on putting it in God's hands. All of it. All these worries and stresses and tests - I need to put them away so I can do what's needed. It's something I'm working toward.

But again, I'm falling short.

I love you, whoever you are.

"He maketh victorious whomsoever He pleaseth, through the potency of His behest."

Yay Done

Finished the painting. Or, as finished as I'm capable of getting. I know it could look better, but painting isn't my forte.
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Title: y=mx+b
Artist: Cassandra



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Yeah. And here are my hands. Yes, I paint with brushes. Yes, I have a tendency to ditch the brushes halfway through. Especially when I'm blending. My fingers work better.



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Lots of love. Thanks to all who commented/offered advice - off the blog or on it :)