I am brave.

Hello, you. It’s nice to meet you. You look promising, like most new things do. I can think about all the great opportunities that you behold, and all of the new possibilities that could possibly take place. The new me’s that could transpire. You are hopeful. For most people at least. We look to you for a fresh start, and new beginning. The past disappoints us– however, the future… well, again, you look most promising. Don’t let us down, or we’ll have problems.

When 2018 ended and the next year began, I was anxious. I’m an anxious person, so it wasn’t abnormal. But, this was a different kind of anxious that I hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t that dread that I would always have whenever I was faced with something new. It was the type of anxious that made me the most curious. For once, I looked forward to the new things that would happen in my life in 2019, and not dread stepping outside of my comfort zone.

I’ve been attending Liberty University since 2017. However, most of you know, I’ve been doing my school online. I finally transferred from being an online student, to a residential student, which isn’t an abnormal thing there at Liberty. A lot of people do that there. The beginning of 2019 was my first residential semester there. I was curiously anxious. I couldn’t imagine what college was like, heck, I had no frame of reference for what a classroom looked like (ha, such a homeschooler, am I right?). I moved to Lynchburg, Virginia, and I was trilled to leave Alabama. I wanted to get out, and I was dead certain I was moving to Virginia. Simply, because, then I believed if I didn’t take the opportunity to finish school on an actual college campus, I would never get out of Alabama. I believed Alabama was a place where you got stuck; it was this endless loop of where you are born, raised, go to school, get married, have kids, have a life-long career, and die. This is a process repeated by multiple generations. My parents have never lived outside of Alabama, and my grandparents never even had the chance. They never even wanted to. Both sides of my parents’ families are literally rooted in Alabama. I wanted to see the world, and Alabama, I felt, would prevent me from ever doing that. I deemed there wasn’t the right opportunities for me to prosper in Alabama.

I should note: I don’t fully feel this way now. This was how I felt a year ago. I was an entirely different person a year ago, and that is something I’ve never really been able to say. A lot has conspired over the course of twelve months, and that’s what I’m here to talk about. After all, this is a “reflection.” Lots of people like to do those this time of year.

I arrived to Lynchburg on January 12, 2019. I moved in with a childhood friend of mine, Kirstyn, and we coordinated our dorm quite well if I say so myself. Once upon a time, in our unique story, Kirstyn and I use to be next door neighbors. Coming up ten years ago. Kirstyn and her sister, Kathryn, have been some of my closest friends, and we were a trio back in the day. Kathryn and Kirstyn moved to West Virginia probably about six/seven years ago, and somehow we managed to keep contact. Kirstyn and I realized we were going to the same school, we decided it wouldn’t hurt to room together, have a sense of familiarity… the day I moved in, my parents had already left for Birmingham, I ended up having dinner with Kirstyn and her parents. We both figured out we had the same major: International Relations: Strategic Intelligence. It’s alright– I will never ask you to remember that for me. Then, we both had entirely different paths that we wanted to take. But as roommates, we would grow closer.

It was the day that I loved linguistics and had my eyes set on a linguistics minor at Liberty. I was taking my first Linguistics class, which was just an introductory class, and on either the second or third day, I would meet one of my closest friends now. Jenna Waterman sat on the same row as me, but a couple of seats down. I remember a girl named Amelia sat in between us, but that never stopped us from connecting. I over heard Jenna mention that she lived on East Campus 193. Each of the buildings on East were numbered as such. You had the 90s, which is where I lived my first semester, the 80s, the 40s… so forth. Jenna mentioning this sparked my interest. I went up to her after class, and mentioned that I lived there too. Jenna also happened to be taking ASL (American Sign Language) classes, and so was Kirstyn. At the time, I never understood fully why God put Jenna in my life. But He would reveal that to me later in time.

That semester took up almost five months. And I can safely say that a lot happens in fives months. I got past a lot of my social anxiety. I became more of an introvert with extroverted tendencies. I met my future qaudmates who would hire me into a leadership position on the next hall I would live in. But what really hit me like a ton of bricks was the summer. I got an awesome job at a state park in Virginia, and fell in love with park service. It was a really good thing for me to live on my own for a little while. I think it’s good for kids to get away from home, and fend for themselves. Although mom and dad didn’t entirely cut me off, they still gave me space when I asked for it, and were always willing to lend a helping hand if it ever came down to it.

The summer of 2019 was when I discovered who I truly was, and how I handled things. How I give my heart to people when the time is not nearly right. So many wonderful things did happen in the summer, and a certain someone taught me a lot about myself without actually intending to. God spoke to me through that experience, and I had to slow down and think for a moment. When school started back, I held my broken heart in my hands, though I would refuse to tell you that I even got attached. I would say I held myself back, and didn’t let my emotions get the best of me, when I had done exactly that. I got my buggy in front of my horse, and I let myself down. I was devastated. And honestly, I’ve only just come to realize that recently.

My first post on here had to do with patterns. And this experience this summer caused me to see a lot of patterns that had occurred throughout my life. It was something that made me stop and think about what I could do differently with how I handled relationships, particularly relationships with guys (whether that be friendships, or be in the potential-future-spouse sense). I’m not going to get into that whole can of worms, because frankly, I’m still trying to sort that out and doing a little more “consulting God” on the matter.

2019 was a year where I actually looked at myself, and looked at the choices I had made previously. 2019 was a year where I got to know God better, and where I was able to tell people my deepest struggles. Something I had never done before. 2019 was where I thought I was in love, and that I maybe had found someone. 2019 was where I met some of my closest friends, that I feel will be around for awhile. 2019 was where I got past my fear that I would never amount to much, and the anxieties I held about people not truly liking me, and eventually leaving me. I’m not going to lie and say I got over those fears. I still worry that my friends will turn their backs on me, because I’ve had that happen before. More than once. But 2019 taught me to live in the moment, and be thankful that God has put those people in my life for all different reasons, even if it’s for a moment in time. I am so thankful for the people who inspired me to get back into writing, and who gave me a Christmas card with garland, and cut-outs of my face on them that read, “deck the halls,” get it, because my name is Holly? People who are willing to talk to me late at night, and comfort me about my little worries. People who I can have a really honest conversation with randomly at like two in the morning, roll a bunch of quarters, and for it to continue on until almost four-thirty in the morning. People who are literally willing to turn back around and give me a ride home when I wreck my car.

God has put all of these amazing people in my life, and I cannot wait to get to known them even better next year. I am no longer anxious as to what the future holds. I am brave.

Life is like a hike. I realized this while I was hiking the Devils Marbleyard, in Rockbridge County, Virginia. This was a reason I very much enjoyed the act of hiking, not only was it adventurous for me, it always in a way represented my life. I had climbed many mountains in my twenty years, and I knew I had more in my near future that I would also hike. Each hike that I took better equipped me, and built my stamina to prepare myself for the next hike.

This is a piece I had written from an unpublished blog post.

Life is like a hike. And I gave you my reasoning above. This is one of the things that God taught me this year. Never be afraid of mountains, especially the ones I put in front of you. He is always there, and He puts people in my life to reassure me of that very Godly fact.

2019, you have been absolutely horrible to me at times. You have made me question my faith, whether I was in the right field of study or not, and you have most certainly broke my heart. I fell heart first off of Crabtree Falls and my car wreck didn’t hurt nearly as much as that.. But, 2019, you have also been very good to me. You made me grow, and taught me so much. And for that very little thing, so insignificant compared to all the pain, I am ever grateful to you.

Goodbye, you.