Just try to never grow up, never grow up...

I'm typing this post while I'm sitting on the couch in our living room. My five-year-old little girl is to my left, curled up next to me watching Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on the big screen. She's saying things like, "Mommy, I don't like Bellatrix. She killed Sirius," and "Ron, don't you dare drink that! It's poison!" My heart is swelling by the minute; I couldn't be prouder that her inner nerd matches mine.

We're doing all of this in the aftermath of the biggest milestone either one of us have encountered since the day she was born: she lost her first tooth about an hour ago. It's been loose for a few days, and this morning I pulled it out after a hurricane of tears, screaming, blood, and salt-water swishing. The minute her tooth was out, she stopped crying and I started to bawl. When did she get old enough for this? I looked at her, newly snaggle-toothed, and I saw looking up at me the baby girl with big blue eyes that changed my life forever.

She's wearing a size 6 clothes now, but I remember when she was in size 6 months like it was yesterday. I used to lay her on my thighs and prop her up and talk to her. She would coo back at me and laugh; it was the most precious and innocent sound I had ever heard.

Greenleigh was born on Thursday, April 16, 2009 at 5:31 p.m. after 25 hours of labor. I remember the pain, but I also remember the surge of emotion I felt when she was placed in my arms. The moment it "hit me" that I was a mother, though, came a few days later.

It was Sunday, three days after she made her entrance to this world. I sat on the couch with her in my arms for over an hour letting her nap on my chest. Tyler came over to me and bent down, and said gently, "Baby, if you want to go take a shower or something, I've got her for a few minutes."

I laid her down, walked into our bathroom, and turned on the shower mindlessly. I was washing my hair when it hit me like a freight train- I was a MOM. I was responsible for another human being, a little girl who would be walking behind me, looking up to me, depending on me, confiding in me, counting on me. And the miracle that I was so privileged to call my daughter was laying right outside my bedroom door, more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. Even at three days old, she had a head full of beautiful dark hair and her eyes were blue like sapphires. Tears were streaming down my face and they ran steady with the water. I had never felt so much love in my life. I hurried to finish my shower so I could get back to holding her.

Fast forward a few years. She's three years old with those same bright baby blues, bouncing curls up in a ponytail. We're just sitting in our living room floor chatting. "What's your favorite song, Bean?" I ask her.
"MEAN!" she exclaims loudly. "And Back to December... and Drop Everything Now... and the Permanent Marker song."
She pauses to take a sip of juice from her sippy cup. "When I get big I'm gonna turn into Taylor Swift."
I just stare, wondering how much more like me she could possibly be at such a young age. Then I say, "Are you a princess?"
"Yeah, Daddy's princess" she says, taking another swig of juice from her cup."But I'm your best friend."

Almost three more years have passed, and I'm currently looking at her in utter amazement and awe. Somewhere along the way, I lost time. My baby girl has evolved into the epitome of a little lady. She picks out her own clothes for school, decides how she wants her hair fixed, loves to have her nails painted (although that's not a new development). She still jams out to Taylor Swift all day, only these days you can understand the words she's saying a little better. As I'm typing this, she's putting on her best fake British accent impersonating Moaning Myrtle. I'm still wondering how much more like me she could be at five years old.

I stop typing just to watch her, and she looks at me and grins- a grin that is now snaggle-toothed and will be a constant reminder to me that, no matter what I do, she is growing up. "What?!" she exclaims.
I kiss her forehead, tears in my eyes. "Nothing," I say. "I just love you."
Then, no matter how old I think she gets, she snuggles up to me with the sweetest smile- the same one she's had when she was six months old, three years old- and she says, "I love you, too, Mommy. You're my best friend."

And I know in this moment, no matter how old she gets, no matter what life throws at us, that will always be true.

So tonight I'll go sprinkle some glitter on a five dollar bill and put it under her pillow when she's sound asleep. I'll mourn just a little for the baby girl I used to hold, and I'll thank God for the little girl I now have the pleasure of knowing, and look forward with reluctance to the young woman she will someday be.



The day we brought her home

Six months old

One year old

Two years old

Three years old

Four years old

Five years old

Today. 1/17/15

 

"My current single status, my declaration of independence"

It's not a secret: I'm obsessed with Taylor Swift. I love her- everything about her. I always have, and I always will, so the jokes don't even phase me. She did an interview recently and some of the things she said really hit home with me.

"I've learned that just because someone is cute and wants to date you, that's not a reason to sacrifice your independence and allow everyone to say what they want about you. Fixing your heartbreak by getting into another relationship is not the way to live your life- you need to live it on your own terms for a while. You can have love all around you without being in love, and find romance in your every day life without being in a romantic relationship. That can be just as fulfilling."

This took on a life of its own in my heart the minute I read it, and I started to reflect on my romantic life last year.

After my divorce was final and I felt like I could finally really let Tyler go, I started dating. I didn't necessarily want a boyfriend, but I hated being lonely. I don't mean the act of being alone; I can do that pretty well. I like having someone to talk to, someone that has my attention, and I have theirs. Someone to laugh with, someone to talk to before I fall asleep, and occasionally someone to kiss and hold my hand and fall asleep next to. Someone to make me feel important.

So, I dated. And not knowing exactly what I was looking for, I didn't really go for one type of guy.

I dated a guy in the Army for a little while who looked like a younger version of my ex-husband. I dated a former cheerleader down in Columbus. He was black and maybe four inches taller than me. I met Asa and had the most magical summer of my life with that skinny blonde boy with green eyes. Then a guy from my hometown that looked like another member of One Direction talked me into going to dinner one night. I willingly welcomed the idea of anyone to get my mind off of my broken heart, so I dated him until we realized we didn't even like each other.

That's four dudes in a year. As in, averaging one every three months. WHAT IS THAT, LINDSEY?! It never seemed that way. I didn't think there was anything wrong with just having fun. But even if my heart wasn't seriously getting hurt, I was still giving so much of myself to these guys. I was constantly checking my phone to see if I had a text message or a SnapChat, or we were planning what to do the next time we saw each other. I was just using so much energy on another human being and allowing them to have too much of an impact on my life.

So I made a decision. I took my idol's advice. Instead of focusing on who deserves my attention and affection next, I'm focusing that energy on me. I'm finding the romance in my every day life, and I'm enjoying the love all around me without being in love. I'm important enough for my own satisfaction without needing validation from someone else. I'm dating and falling in love with myself, and it's the best thing I've ever done. It's been nice being able to be selfish. I wake up every morning and ask myself, "What do you want?" Then I make moves to achieve the answers to that question without any guilt or explanations to anyone whatsoever. It's liberating and it's beautiful.

I'm sure there will come a time when I'll be ready to give the dating game another try, but I don't foresee that happening anytime soon. I've got great friends and precious kids who love me, and right now, that's enough.

"So much can change in a year. So much has changed in a year."

Well 2015 is here, and as I was sitting today I realized I haven't written anything in over two years. In 2013, my life was in shambles, scattered around me in shards of glass that I couldn't even begin to fathom how to piece back together. Then 2014 came and a new chapter of my life started. It wasn't always rainbows, but I learned more about myself last year than I have in my entire adult life so far.

One year to the day after my ex-husband and I separated was January 1st, 2014. This day, after months and months of fighting, making up, and fighting again, I let go of any thought that we might reconcile our relationship. I began to look forward and what life had in store for me as a single 25 year old woman.

I see no sense in lying about it- the first thing I did was go out. I was a mom of two babies by the time I was 21 years old, so I never got to have my "wild" years. Yes, I was still first and foremost a mother, but I was also a 25 year old woman who needed to feel like I had a life outside of work and coloring and watching Frozen and Ninja Turtles.

So for New Year's 2014, some co-workers talked me into going to a club with them in Atlanta to celebrate. And you know what? This country girl from the mountains had a blast. The result of that was that I went out a lot. Every weekend that my kids were with their dad, I was gone. I went to shows all over Atlanta and attended several festivals in Georgia and Florida. I fell in love with the nightlife of the city and the friends I was making. I felt like I was finally getting to explore a side of myself that I'd never known before. Lindsey was no longer tied down, or just a housewife and a mother. I was a person with a story, meeting other people with stories. I got to be good friends with a DJ that played at almost every show I saw in Atlanta. I could literally go out by myself and not sweat it because the minute I walked in the door there were about five cliques I could easily meet up with and it was like being with a second family. I made some friends all over the state and the country that I'll be friends with for the rest of my life.

I love pictures, so here's some highlights of those experiences.

 Iris Atlanta: Learn to Believe

Kingdom Rave XI: Legacy

 

Quad Atlanta's Grand Re-Opening

 Counterpoint Music Festival

Panama City Beach

 Sunset Music Festival

Kindom Rave XV: Bashment Block Party

Meeting Arque

Toga Party

 Imagine Music Festival

Seven Lions

 











These are some of the memories I'll never forget, nor would I trade them for any amount of money in the world. The way these experiences opened my eyes to another side of life is worth more than I could ever express. I evolved. I came out of my shell, and I was loving every single bit of it.

But after a while, the lights didn't seem to shine as bright and the music all started to sound the same. I began to crave something I never thought I'd crave again- home. Not a place, but a feeling that I couldn't find anywhere but in my heart. I'm not sure at what point I lost it, I just knew that all of the sudden it wasn't there anymore. Yes, I had my kids and they would always be my "home", and yes I had friends that loved me no matter what. But just like I had lost myself in being a wife and a mother, I had somehow lost myself again somewhere down in Atlanta. My country accent had disappeared. I didn't even know where my cowboy boots were. I couldn't tell you anything that was playing on 94.9 The Bull. I still prayed, but I hadn't set foot in a church in months.

I feel like it took something devastational to get me to realize that I needed to make a change.

Over the summer, I fell in love. Even saying that, I don't feel like it accurately describes what happened. I literally lost myself in another human being. Our energies combined in a way that we stopped being individuals and we operated as a unit. Strangers approached us everywhere we went and told us how beautiful we were together. It was the most amazing, intense, incredible thing I've ever experienced.

But at the end of the summer, it all came crashing down. I was floating on the clouds, then all of the sudden I was free-falling at lightning speeds and I had no parachute. When I hit the ground, I didn't think I'd ever get back up. Losing him was more painful than my divorce. I know the weight of those words, but I don't care. I cried all day, every day, for weeks. It didn't matter where I was.

The weekend after we broke up, I was sitting on the ground, alone, during one of the best sets of Imagine Festival, and I was sobbing uncontrollably. That's when I realized that the music, my friends, and the lights could no longer save me. Music festivals were my "happy place". They had been all year. No matter what was going on in life, I could lose myself in the music and the lights and feel okay again. If I couldn't even get up off the ground, much less smile, I needed to leave. Exit. Go. So I did.

With that, I abruptly closed the "wild" chapter of my life. I stopped going out cold turkey. I moved from Atlanta back to the mountains in Jasper in the blink of an eye. My weekends without my kids were spent on my back porch with a good friend, talking about where I wanted to go from that point. I'm wearing cowboy boots- on occasion- again. I've got a country playlist on my Spotify account. My country twang is back. The Lindsey that existed prior to last year is back, but she's an evolved character thanks to the events that happened over the past twelve months. I've learned that sometimes strangers really can become some of your best friends. I've known a love that consumes. The way that I look at the world has changed. I stopped judging people and began to realize that every person you pass- every single one- is just someone else with a story.

So I here I sit, laptop open, staring this upcoming year in the face. And I'm ready. I can't say with any sort of certainty what I want out of 2015. I just know that this year, I want to fall in love with Lindsey. All sides of her.

And this blog is that story.