Soulmates? Maybe not...

Do you believe in soulmates? It isn’t a question I get asked often. And yet this month I spent two weeks talking about just that. Maybe it’s because Valentine’s was fast approaching. Maybe it was just up on the docket of conversations to be had. So, I decided to really sit with the question. To think about what it meant and what it meant to me. I would rather sit with something that feels uncomfortable instead of avoiding it.

I spent two weeks listening to what other people thought while I let my own thoughts swirl in my brain, occasionally adding an idea or question to what was being said. And I have decided that I don’t believe in soulmates. Or at least not in the way most people would define the term. When most people hear ‘soulmate’ they think of a romantic partner, that one person you are made for and meant to be with. And it sounds nice, but I find it incredibly limiting. What do we say about people who lose a spouse and get remarried? What about those who remain single - whether it’s by choice or not? How can this definition of soulmate apply to them? How does one hope or live their life always in search of ‘the one’? Maybe soulmate just needed a different definition if I was going to use it.

As I write this I am not married and I am not dating anyone. And there is still a deep richness in my life because of the relationships I do have. Singleness has not made my life less than or subpar, in no way do I lack love. Often it seems that outside observers believe that I must be missing something without a romantic partner, but I am here to say that isn’t true. I have friendships that have withstood the test of time and distance. Friendships that have made me a better woman. And for these friendships I am deeply grateful.

Could these friends be my soulmates? Instead of a romantic partner, what if I have friends who have decided to show up and stick with me, no matter what comes our way? Perhaps my friends are my soulmates through this gift of commitment and consistency. Maybe, just maybe, a soulmate is someone who adds to my life in a rich and meaningful way. So at the end of the day I’ve got a few soulmates. A handful of people who add incredible value to my life. Who refresh and recharge my weary soul. Who cheer me on and catch me when I fall. Shifting the definition and shifting the mindset behind it opens up new possibilities.

My marital status should not be the determining factor in whether I have people committed to doing life with me. People who are deeply invested in me and I in them. And that seems to be what people think soulmates are about “one person to journey through life with.” Even if a romantic partner comes along, I do not want to abandon or devalue these friendships that have already been such an important part of my life. As a single woman I don’t get left behind or forgotten. Who I am right now is seen and honored. And that matters. These friends I would call soulmates matter. These relationships matter and don’t have to be devalued because they aren’t romantic.

And perhaps that is the bigger issue in this conversation for me. Not that romantic soulmates don’t exist. But by claiming that they do, all these incredible friendships are, often, seen as a cheap substitute until I can stumble upon “the real thing.” And that simply is not the case. I have already found the real thing. I am already living with the benefits of a soulmate. Friends who pour into my life, making it far richer than I could have ever dreamed. And I am incredibly grateful for them. And I want others to benefit as well. So I say that we all spend some time investing in friendships. Focus on some of the gifts right in front of us instead of simply trying to find ‘the one.’

I've decided to celebrate instead

January is not my favorite month. It’s cold and still fairly dark out, neither of which I love.

January is also when everyone decides to hit the reset button, to make changes, create goals,

and become a whole new person. There isn’t anything necessarily wrong with any of those

things. But what frustrates me is how January seems to be a constant reminder to hate my

body. I scroll through social media as people talk about the healthy habits they want to have. I

get push ads for gyms, fitness apps, detoxes, and anything else designed to make me thin and

pretty. And I think about all the Januarys I wanted that. Each new year beginning with me

wishing, hoping, and praying that this would be the year I would get it right, finally I would be on

track to be thin. And then it wouldn’t happen. I would fail and be so angry and disappointed in

myself. Adding to all the hate and shame I already felt. But January would come around again

and I would find myself still hoping and dreaming of the day I would be thin and all the benefits

that would give me.

I placed so much hope in this desire to be thin. I honestly thought it would solve all of my

problems. If I were thin I would be pretty. I’d be loved, I’d be wanted. People would want to be

my friend. I wouldn’t have so many reasons to hate myself. Losing weight was the clear solution

to all of my problems.

Until it became clear that it wasn’t. The year after I graduated from college I did pretty well with

my weight loss plan. I was exercising. I was counting calories. I was being complimented and

cheered on. And at first I was so excited. With every pound lost there was hope that my life

would improve. But it didn’t. In so many ways I was unhealthy at that time in my life. I remember

how excited I would get when I got the notification that I hadn’t consumed enough calories for

the day. And friends, that wasn’t okay. And it wasn’t healthy. And it wasn’t loving towards my

body. While I am grateful that restrictive eating didn’t last much past that year, it took longer to

delete the tracking app, and longer to deal with the shame and hatred that came with it.

I didn’t love myself or my body. Instead I was continually shaming her. Telling her she deserved

to be punished, simply for existing and showing up as she was. And I lived a lot of my life that

way. It has taken time to love my body, to speak kindly to her. To feed her well. To exercise as a

form of celebration, not as a punishment.

So I’ve decided that this year I want to celebrate all my body has done and can do. And I want

to encourage you to do the same, especially if you’re not a big fan of January either. For me this

is a far better way to start the year, to celebrate what has been done in order to prepare for

whatever may come in the future. So here’s my list, or at least the start of it.

My body has enabled me to:

- Hug my friends and family. Holding them in joy and in sorrow.

- Cook meals for myself and others.

- Dance simply because dancing is the best.

- Laugh. At really dumb jokes, funny stories, and everything in between.

- Cry. Tears of pain and excitement because both are a necessary and holy thing.

- Breathe. Something simple but with asthma that just isn’t always the case.

- Run a half marathon which felt impossible but ended up being so empowering.

- Shake hands. To meet people, to make them feel welcome.

- Place my hands on another person’s shoulder, to pray, to say that we’re in this together.

- Receive communion. To remember that Christ died so I may live and live abundantly.

- Set up tables and chairs in order to foster community.

- Take out the trash in order to serve those around me.

- Clean dishes, bathrooms, bedrooms, and living rooms for my benefit and the benefit of

others.

- Ears to listen to all that has been told to me. Stories filled with joy, sorrow, and the

everyday.

- A body that lets me be physically present, on good days and bad, for people when they

just need to know someone is there for them.

My body has carried me through so much. Endured so much. Even when I was the one causing

her harm. This list is simply the beginning. Giving my body recognition she deserves. She’s

carried me through so much and I am choosing to love her for it. And I hope you are able to see

all that your body has carried you through. And if you need some help seeing it for yourself, truly

I would love nothing more than to sit with you and figure out all you can celebrate. So here’s to

loving our bodies and loving ourselves more each day. There is beauty to be found in who we

are right now.

Courage, dear heart

I’ve started to take time each December to prepare for the coming New Year. I’m not the kind of person who makes resolutions, instead I choose a word to declare over myself and over my year. It becomes the quiet and constant prayer of my life. Last December I felt like courage needed to be my word for 2021. Even as I prayed about it I knew I wouldn’t fully see what the courage was for. But as I take time now to reflect on my 2021 I can’t help but laugh. So often we don’t fully know what we’re praying for in the moment, and it’s not a bad thing. If I had known all that 2021 would hold I wouldn’t have prayed for courage, I would’ve prayed to avoid what the year held for me. But God knew what my 2021 needed and what it needed was the steady hum of courage.

Those first few months of 2021 were honestly painful. As 2021 began and my 26th year drew to a close I know I wasn’t making it on my own strength. I was heartbroken and overwhelmed. I was facing a job that was causing so much anxiety that I was physically sick and unable to sleep. It seemed like a miracle that I was able to wake up and teach each day. Looking back it is clear how God held me up, held my heart, and held my hand as I moved forward. I didn’t know what to do or how to feel. I felt like I couldn’t pray. So I asked other people to pray for me. I was honest with them about my pain and my confusion, asking them to hold it with me because I couldn’t bear to do it on my own. And for me, asking for help took courage.

For months I let the prayers of others carry me forward. And those prayers carried me well. These prayers, and encouragement from friends, led me to counseling, another step of courage. Now hear me on this, I am and have been a big fan of counseling. I think it is a good and necessary thing. My fear was more about all of the pain I would be unearthing and where that would leave my already fragile heart and mind. But counseling has been a good and holy thing for me, even as I face my pain I am never facing it alone. I laid out all of my pain as I was seeking healing. My prayers ended up matching this, I would lay on the couch sobbing and repeating that I wasn’t okay, that I didn’t have any other words for it, and could God just take this mess and this muck and handle it for me? I was desperate for a change in my life, my heart, and my head. All I could do for a time was remind God that I couldn’t do it, so God would have to handle it. And that is exactly what God did.

As I sat and sifted through all the pain and anxiety I was carrying I was able to move forward and make changes. Courageously choosing better for myself each day. I started looking for a new job and applied to quite a few. There were a couple that felt like they could be a really good fit. Once again I asked friends and family to pray for and alongside me. I am not sure I have ever had a year where I asked for so much prayer and I am grateful I did. In the end, neither of those jobs worked out. And I was frustrated, 2021 just held so many no’s and I was over it. But I found the courage to believe in something even better for myself, despite not knowing what that might look like and when it might arrive. It has taken courage to begin to step into all that I have been called to.

Summer brought me what might have been my most courageous act of 2021 though. I decided to rest. To refocus. To be still. It went against what I thought I should be doing with my time. But I knew that if I wanted clarity moving forward, if I really wanted to step into my calling, that I needed to be still. To be quiet. To listen. To learn. To lean into the waiting.

If I’m honest, I was afraid to take time to listen. 2021 made me feel like my hearing wasn’t all that great, that I hadn’t quite understood the call and direction for my life. I wasn’t sure I could hear clearly from God anymore. Just admitting that to be true took time and the safe space of counseling. Sitting with the truth in order to move forward took even more time. It was time well spent though, it gave me what I needed to move forward.

The truth is I am not, generally, afraid of the quiet, of deep thinking and meditation. I actually tend to prefer it. In fact, that’s where I thrive, my students often commenting on how I had no shallow thoughts, it was all deep thinking for Ms. Ellington. The summer gave me the time and space to fully embrace that part of me again and I’m grateful. Taking the time to push back against the fear, learning to trust, again, that I could hear and know the voice of God. This was the re-centering my year needed, this is what gave me the courage to continue to move forward.

This time led to the turn around of 2021. One weekend in July that was the beginning of what was better. A weekend spent with my friend Erin. A weekend where I could finally begin to dream again, alongside a friend who wanted me to dream and dream big. In some ways it felt like I was finally coming up for air, finally getting a win in a year filled with so many losses. I began to believe, once more, that I could hear from God. There was no need for the burden of fear to impair my hearing. So I’ve taken time to listen again. Beginning, again, to believe I can hear where God is guiding me in life. And now it’s about taking courageous steps in that direction. Stepping forward even though I’m scared and unsure. But I am moving forward anyway.

Courage for 2021 didn’t look like what I imagined it would. But it marked me, I believe, for the better. And for most of 2021 I have been able to look down at my arm for a constant reminder of courage, and I am grateful (thank you Jennifer Edge at Mainline Ink!). Because I know courage will continue to carry me forward in a million more ways than I thought possible.