The House That Built Me

This, my friends, is my humble abode. Well, at least for another couple of weeks. My parents built this house 15 years ago, and has been my absolute favorite place on earth. I had thee best childhood in this house. With my cousin/best friend living right down the small private drive, we spent so many days swimming in the pool, riding through the woods on four-wheelers and dirt bikes, and making so many amazing memories.

Obviously, this place is huge. A couple years ago, after my sister and I both went to college and my brother was getting ready to, my parents decided to put our lovely home up for sale. There wasn't going to be any need for such a large home in the near future, and with the state of the economy, it was getting hard for my parents to keep up with the bills.

It took two years, so it shouldn't have been such a huge surprise once the house sold.

But, with everything that's happened in the last year, it's been pretty difficult. Last October, my parents decided to get a divorce. I wasn't completely surprised. Things hadn't been good between them for a while and honestly, I was bracing myself for it. But no matter how much you "prepare" for something like that, you can't. I've come to terms with my parent's not being together since then, but having to move out of our house is a new level of mourning the brokenness of my family.

This house is the last physical thing I have that holds memories of my family when things were good.

I was doing pretty decent with the house selling until this past Saturday. We have to be moved out of our house the first week of September, and before this weekend, my mom and I had nowhere to live! Thankfully, we found a nice looking apartment at a decent price to rent, and it just happened to be the last apartment in the entire complex with an early September move in date.

Feeling relieved that we have a place to live and won't be homeless, I was on a mission to get ready for the quickly approaching moving date. I spent a good 8 hours cleaning out my room and a few other rooms. I was surprised at how easily I was able to just throw away or donate my belongings, but thankful for that strength at the same time. Moving from a 3,800+ square foot home to an apartment is not an easy thing! We have a lot of junk! The sadness didn't hit me until later.

Oh, and did it hit me.

It's hard moving away from the place you've called home with your family for the last 15 years. Once I graduated college, I moved home to be with my family, and now I'm moving out. It sucks.

As much as I would love for time to stop so I can enjoy my home for a little while longer, I also just want the next couple of weeks to get over with so I can move on. As hard as it's going to be to move away from our home, I think it's going to be good for my mom and I. Especially my mom. It will be a good time to heal and move on from the past year.

I'm just trying to think about all the positive things about this move. It's definitely hard and I tend to be a Negative Nancy, but I don't want to walk around all depressed for the next couple of weeks. I found this quote on Pinterest yesterday and have decided it's going to be my motto to get my through the hard times to come.

I promise happy Jenna will be back tomorrow! I just needed to get this off my chest, and what better place than my blog; a place where I can be me and be real. Happy Monday, lovelies! I hope your week is off to a great start!

Real Talk

I think it's about time for me to get a little serious here, ladies. Don't get me wrong, I love writing about superficial things like fashion and make-up and partake in the best link ups, but that's not all who I am. I don't want ya'll to think I'm shallow! (YES! I just let my inner Southern Belle show and it felt AMAZING!)

But let's have some real talk for once...

It's easy for me to stroll on over to Bloggerville and pretend like I have it all together. You can be anyone you want when you're hiding behind a computer screen. Cue the fakers and the haters. But who are you really?

Life hasn't been super easy for me the past year. I graduated college, moved home to be with my family, and then found out five months later that my parents decided to separate. SWEET LIFE. Now, if that doesn't smack you in the face, I don't know what does.

But throughout this difficult transition, I've done a lot of soul searching. A LOT! Like every week type of soul searching. Yesterday, I was catching up on the dailies of my lovely blogging gals when I came across Monica's blog post. (Ladies, go check out this beauty's blog! She's awesome.) She got real and talked about insecurities and it got me thinking. Who doesn't have insecurities?!

While on my run, trying not to die, I started thinking about my insecurities, and decided it was something I wanted to share with ya'll. (Again, Southern Belle)

Let's rewind to two and a half years ago, before I met my current love, Justin. I had been in a relationship with my "high school sweetheart" (I want to shoot myself every time I use that phrase for this particular person) for five and a half years. FIVE AND A HALF YEARS! This guy is a good person, don't get me wrong, but he was an awful boyfriend. He constantly put me down. Sometimes it was about my looks. Sometimes it was about who I am as a person. I was constantly compared to other people: "My old neighbor is the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen." "So-and-so is really involved with the homeless shelter. Don't you think you should do that? You don't do enough for other people."

I know, I know. I should have run way before five and a half years. I kick myself all the time.

So long story short, that relationship messed me up big time. (As you can imagine it would after being put down for so long.)

Enter....my biggest blessing, Justin.

We met while on a three week trip to Guatemala during our Junior year of college.

Justin treated me like a princess from the moment he met me. So I said buh-bye to my now ex and said HELLO to J. (Moving fast there, I know!) As much as Justin reaffirmed me, my past relationship had sunk so deep into my head that I couldn't get over my insecurities.

Sure, I was self-conscious of my looks. Who wouldn't be when they had been compared to every female with two legs and boobs over the last five years? I'm happy to say that I'm getting close to loving the way I look these days (key word: close). It's hard! And I know you ladies know what I'm talking about! When society drills into our heads we're supposed to look a certain way, it's hard to be happy with what we have been given. But I'm starting to embrace things I used to not like about myself, for example, my lovely five head!

(After rambling for a million minutes, let me get to my real insecurity).

While on my run tonight, it finally hit me. I know what I'm most insecure about. MYSELF. Not what's on the outside, but what's on the inside.

I'm a Social Worker. I've decided to dedicate my life to helping others. I take pride in the fact that I love to put others needs above my own. But for some reason, some reason I hate more than anything, I've let the words of my ex-boyfriend make a home in my head. All I ever hear is you're not good enough, you don't care enough, you don't love enough...blah...blah... BLAH.

The sick part is, I'm dumb enough to believe it, but smart enough to know it's a lie. Twisted, huh?

I literally want to punch myself in the face when I say things (like above) to myself. I know exactly how the people I care about the most think of me and the type of person they know I am. I know my heart and I know it shows by the way I live my life. But it has been pushed into my head so many time, it's hard not to believe.

BARF! Just talking about this makes me annoyed with myself!

But the whole point of me talking about this is to reach out and let you all know you're not alone. It's so easy to pretend that we all have it together when we post about fun things we did on the weekend, or the super cute outfit we wore today, but we all have insecurities, we all have hurts, we all feel lost from time to time. You're not alone.

And don't be afraid to be real every once in a while.

Who knew Winnie the Pooh was teaching us the best life lessons when we were just babes!

Have a great weekend beautiful ladies! And sorry for such a depressing blog post!

xoxo, J