snow days

In the recent days full of snow and blizzard-like conditions I have learned something somewhat new and starling about myself. If I had no one to encourage me to get out of bed in the morning and interact with other human beings, I could quite possibly sit in my room all day hidden from the world. I am an introvert at heart. I honestly always considered myself an extrovert because they always seemed more popular and likable, but I can no longer deny who I am. Recently, my greatest fear has been being locked in a social setting. I need my car. I need an excuse to leave at all times. I need the comfort of my bedroom. I am more of a loner than I ever realized.

While in no ways do I consider these feelings something to run from or hide, I have found that when taken to the extreme (which with the mixture of bad weather and shaky relationships has been the case recently) they can be destructive. Even on my best days, I have a hard time opening up about what is really going on in my life. Yes, I will share my embarrassing story of dropping a gallon of milk in the middle of Kroger and watching it explode easily, but it takes a lot for me to tell someone what is really going on. I want to carry my own burdens. Satan sends this clever message, that you are stronger if you do it on your own. I believe it most of the time. I actually pride myself on my inability to cry and ability to hide my feelings. I know, that statement is messed up on so many levels. But the world tells me those things make me strong.

Ironically, this thought hit me while watching the movie, Up in the Air, honestly it was sad, actually depressing. It made me want to go home and curl up in my parent's bed and forget the world. But even this movie made by people who most likely do not know Jesus, seemed to disagree with my previous statement. Strength does not come from within. Why do I think that? I am so broken. I am just the type of broken that hides it from the world, but that doesn't make me any less broken.

Recently, I have been on a quest to be domestic. I feel like if I can somehow make my way through a kitchen I can find someone who will want to be with me. I am ashamed that I actually believe that previous sentence. You see my mother told me for years that my future husband would not be pleased with me because I did not have any skills in the kitchen. And now, a sophomore in college with no prospect in sight, I am desperately looking to learn how to maneuver a kitchen in order to find a husband. It is illogical, because in fact the only thing I really know how to do is clean up after myself when I make a gigantic mess. And at the end of the night, after I have found a way to put the kitchen back together again I am no closer to companionship.