Bad Breakups

Early last year I was hurled into this downward spiral that no boy has ever even come close to sending me down. (Gentlemen, please note that the previous statement is just an observation and in no way a challenge.) I felt crippling heartache, as real as any, from which I have not fully recovered from to this day. The worst break up I've ever gone through was with my mission.

When I got home a year ago, I was in full blown crazy ex-girlfriend mode. I would burst into tears with even a slight reminder of my mission, or Utah, or the snow, or Jesus. (I had a lot of trigger words, okay) I dreaded going to church or the temple, or anywhere that could remind me of my beloved mission. I spent uncomfortable amounts of time going through pictures and reading old journal entries. I listened to A LOT of Mayday Parade, and even more Taylor Swift. I ate tons of junk food. I shopped my feelings. You know, the works.

But I reached a point that we all have to when we go through a breakup, and that is taking the first step towards moving on. For me it was watching Frozen like five or six times within one week. Now, I am not saying I then gave up on my mission, or that I have even now. But up until that point I refused to watch television and taking that step helped me to a very minor extent get over the heartache in a really really small yet somehow significant way.

I sometimes joke that I left my heart at Temple Square, but it really does feel that way. I was so blessed to be able to return last month, and get my heart back for a little while. While there, I felt more alive. I felt whole.

I get that it is easy to read this and think, "wow, she really has romanticized her mission." I assure you I have not. I promise. Believe me it was hard. I went to bed exhausted everyday. My hands were callused and my arms hurt from the wheelchair. My progression as a young missionary was far from perfect, as was my relationship with my companion(s). But all the stress and pain and exhaustion was part of what made my mission perfect. When you love something, or someone, you do not just love the great things about them, you love the frustrating things too. My mission  had so many great things that were easy to love, including my GORGEOUS companion Sister Tsang. Let me tell you, companionship unity is an important thing, and if we did anything well, that was it. Not everyday was sunshine and roses but I never doubted for a second that she loved me. I knew she wanted the best for me. I knew she would do anything she could to help me be the best version of myself. She looked out for  me and I trusted her with my life. I believe  that the bond we share is and was 100% a blessing from the endless service she rendered toward me. I know I was not the only one going to bed with sore arms and legs each night. 

Getting over lost love is hard. In this case, it is the hardest thing I have ever had to do and I want to be okay but I'm not yet. With time, I will be.

Greg Behrendt wrote, "Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you, he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe...it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is...just...moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope."