The One where I'm Still Angela Jeffries.

My job has two offices. One office is slow, and usually only has one or two people working in it at a time. I work in the slow office about 6 hours a week and in the busy office about 12-14 hours. Usually, when you see a post, it's when I'm in the slow office. Sitting in a (most of the time) quiet place gives me the opportunity to catch up and reflect on things that are going on in my everyday life.

This morning, I read my entire blog. Now, I know that's only 19 posts, but many of you have learned that I can be pretty long-winded in the things I have to say, so it took a good hour to read everything. It's interesting to realize that I only started keeping this journal at the beginning of September. I wonder, sometimes, why I chose to sit down on September 6th and start logging my thoughts. I was incredibly busy at that time, so something big must have happened, and I wish I could remember exactly what it was. I can't remember if I was just reminded from someone else's blog post that I had signed up for an account a while back. Part of me wants to believe that my subconscious knew that a big change was around the corner. Truthfully, the only thing I remember from June through September is the constant funk and pity I wallowed in because I felt no control; all I can remember is that I felt very, very, very sad. I suppose I'm looking too much into things when I say that when I read those blogs in September, I feel the sadness sitting in every word.

Interestingly enough, the day before I started my "diet," I wrote: Sometimes I get tired of being the strong girl, the one with the big, independent personality. I admit to wanting to be taken care of on occasion. I admit to getting physically and especially emotionally tired of wearing the armor. I admit that that tiresome feeling has become more prominent in my life lately. I admit that I have no idea how to handle it. Which is something else entirely - I hate not knowing how to handle every second of my life. I consider myself a very controlled person. I know how to budget my time; I know how to act in front of people; and I like to think I know what's going to happen tomorrow. I think spontaneous activities are a blast, that's not what I'm talking about... it's those unexpected situations that take hold of our lives. I'm not quite sure how to explain it.

I joked on Sunday with Maddie and Jenessa that during the summer, I cried and cried, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know how to get rid of this feeling." Now, things just sit so right in my life; I find myself - instead of crying - smiling as I say, "I don't know what's wrong with me! I don't know how to get rid of this feeling!" That is not my way of saying that I want to get rid of the feeling of contentedness; I'm simply noting the irony. I have nothing to complain about.

Honestly, though, this blog has blessed my life so much. I have always loved writing; it has always come to me so much easier than talking or giving speeches. I do wish that I had started this much sooner; it has become strangely therapeutic - something that I don't really take very lightly and something that I hold very close to my heart. That being said, I also look forward to the updates my friends make on their blogs. I don't think any of the friends that I follow realize that I do, in fact, read every single post they make; and there are so many people whose blogs I would love to read if they ever started one. It's like a little cheat; I get to peek into loved ones' lives. I love being given the chance to learn more about the people I admire.

...

I've talked about this with a few people, and I still can't seem to grasp an understanding of it. Before I step up onto the soapbox and beginning rambling about this subject, please know that this is not a complaint in any way; it is something that has merely been in my thoughts for some time now. It is, however, important to me. Here goes:

I thought that gaining confidence in myself and finally loving myself would be all positive. I remember once my mom said, "You have a good life. All you need to be totally happy is to love yourself." Now I do. And, don't get me wrong, I am unbelievably happy with where I am now and where I am headed. (I still believe that the most important thing that we do in life is continue to set goals and reach them, set goals and reach them, set goals and reach them.) But one thing has struck me as rather odd... and honestly, very sad.

I have lost friends since I started caring about who I am and who I am to become. Some of my closest friends have literally become mere acquaintances. I have so many questions for them and so many questions for myself. I continue to reassess myself everyday - to make sure that I am equalizing my humility and confidence. It is a line that I never want to cross. I do fear that my sudden boost of confidence and happiness has turned people away from me - that it is being interpreted as arrogance. A close friend said to me, when discussing this exact subject, "Maybe they don't know how to deal with this new Angela - this happy Angela." I'm sure that part of it is that my group of friends has changed in the sense that I am seen less at school and more at work and at the Hale, but another part of me wants so much to understand what went wrong. And then to hear that malicious things are being said about me from people I called dear friends - it's really, really heartbreaking, and it makes me want to stay where I am in my happy little oblivious bubble.

But what REALLY matters is that I still have those people in my life who matter the most. My mother has been a beautiful support to me through everything in my entire life - my whole family has, but especially her. She has pushed me through some of the worst times of my life, maybe without even realizing that's what she was doing. My darling best friends continue to take good care of my heart and allow me to help nurture their own. The unconditional love leaves me absolutely speechless everyday.

I swear that I KNOW that I have so much in my life that needs improvement; I absolutely know that I am so far from perfect and that that will be the case until the day I die. I'm not a fool who is blinded by a tiny little success in reaching a goal.

I'm still sometimes really stupid and emotional. I'm still silly, and I still make a complete fool of myself. I still hope and wish for things. I still love just as much, if not more. I still make stupid decisions. I haven't forgotten Who I should continue to thank for everyday of my life. I still laugh; I still joke. I haven't forgotten who I am or what, who, and where I come from.
I'm still that crazy-looking baby who chewed on meat bones. I'm still Angela Jeffries. I promise.