How often do you find yourself staring blankly into the opening of your closet and thinking, “Ugh. I have nothing to wear. Absolutely nothing. I think it’s time for some new clothes”? Continue Reading…
Archives For Alana Mokma
During that flight home to Michigan, part of me hoped the plane would crash. I had committed to return home and confess ALL to my parents. I suppose I could have chickened out and not done it, but by that point there were people back in Seattle who knew I planned to talk with my parents. Just their knowledge of my plan was accountability enough.
The truth is, no one knew everything that was going on with me. I only told people bits and pieces – whatever I felt I could trust them with, or whatever I felt they could handle without judging me. But… no one knew everything.
When Johnny broke up with me and never talked to me again, I was devastated. The hardest part was experiencing his rejection and having no closure (that I could actually remember). I continued to drink, but for a brief time calmed down my lifestyle. This was March and fast approaching in May would be a trip I had planned to Seattle. I would be visiting my younger sister who was involved in a discipleship program.Continue Reading…
Happy Thanksgiving, friends!
In lieu of new content today, I am highlighting a few of the most recent popular posts. If you’ve missed any of these, I highly recommend you check them out. They are electric!
Your Story: Kim Lincoln
I had to acknowledge how sexual abuse played a part in how I perceived my body and in what I have done to protect myself at all costs, including how I have used food and my weight to both shield my emotions and keep people at bay.
Your Story: Abigail Livingston
I was taught that “true love waits”, meaning that I should not have sex until I get married. There was not much else shared about romantic relationships as I was growing up even in church-and I was definitely not allowed to date.
Your Story: Joy McMillan
A people pleaser par excellence. It would seem I had every reason to succeed at life. All the makings of a healthy, well-rounded, confident young lady. But something was horribly wrong behind the scenes as my mystery wounds festered, alone in the basement of my heavy little heart.
Your Story: Emily Maynard
But somewhere along the way, my name got twisted up. Somehow, somewhere, I took on the name of “Does Everything One,” which quickly turned into “Disappointed One,” “Self-Berating One,” “Flakey One,” and “Exhausted One.” And let me tell you, these titles are even less fun in real life than they are on this page.
A few months ago, I struggled with my perception of “the introvert.” My experience has been that he is quiet, doesn’t want to talk, makes me feel uncomfortable because he doesn’t want to talk, and it seems he could care less if he knew me or didn’t know me. This didn’t make me feel special, and I want to feel special.
New content next Tuesday! [I continue my story of how my love for alcohol changed my life.]
The other day I spent some quality time with a couple of my girlfriends. One of them shared an idea for a project she is pondering. It is a fantastic idea but she is afraid to move forward until she has conquered the issue herself. She didn’t feel worthy or accomplished enough to consider herself an expert or leader on the subject. In response, I jumped down her throat and passionately told her why she should do it anyway, even if she is in the middle of the process herself. Ready or not, others needed to hear her message.
Not much later in the conversation, I got it. It clicked and I knew exactly how she felt; Continue Reading…
Yesterday, I put up this status on Facebook:
Random fact: If you dare me to do something, I will almost always accept the challenge. #amIcrazy
My friend Jody Berkey called my bluff:
Okay, here’s my dare for you. Organize a group and participate in an upcoming Spartan Race. She attached the following video.
Jody Berkey, I accept your challenge.
Okay, obviously this is nowhere near the intensity of a real race. But Jody… you have me thinking… 😉