tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30527646337668599242024-03-05T06:56:29.366-08:00Just Being MyselfBecca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-78270943853609082952022-01-07T10:04:00.000-08:002022-01-07T10:04:41.035-08:00Fighting the Uphill Battle<p> As I type this I'm not sure if, or when I’ll be ready to hit that button to share our story with the world. </p><p>It is currently July 29, 2021. We have officially been trying to conceive for almost two months now. (Well, I’ve been trying… my husband is still in the whole “leave it up to fate” mentality.) Trust me, I know that this is a short and minuscule amount of time in the TTC community. But, I also feel like that shouldn’t invalidate my feelings about our journey so far.</p><p>As soon as my husband and I started dating I knew that I wanted to start a family with him. Before we were even officially engaged I had made a game plan with my OBGYN to remove my IUD at my next yearly follow up appointment the following December. I knew my body needed to detox from the years of having the IUD in place and figured this would give us a good six months or so before we were ready to start actively trying. </p><p>That marked our starting point on this uphill battle. My appointment got pushed back from December to February. I was mildly annoyed… but I ended up with a new care provider who specializes in PCOS, so it wasn’t all that bad. (I received my official PCOS diagnosis about 3 or so years ago, but I’ve known since I was in high school that I would more than likely end up with it.) At this appointment, we set up a game plan for what we were going to do once the IUD came out, and then the IUD refused to come out. After 2 separate appointments resulting in failed attempts to retrieve the darn thing, I was finally scheduled to be put under general anesthesia.</p><p>The thought of having to resort to surgery to remove the stupid thing was extremely upsetting. At this point, it was April… 4 months later than I had originally planned on removing it, and now I was looking at waiting another month. To make emotions even worse, a friend in a group chat I was in had gotten pregnant without even trying and I just lost it. I’m talking a level 10 meltdown in the break room at my work. It was in this moment I realized just how isolating this journey was going to be. </p><p>My surgery date came and the IUD was finally out. I knew that we weren’t going to be one of those cases that got pregnant right away, but that didn’t stop me from hoping that would be the case. </p><p><br /></p><p>It is now January 7th, 2022. I had left this behind for a while... but I am ready to talk about where we are at now. Every month, I remain optimistic that this will be our month. Every month I am devastated as I see multiple tests coming back with one pink line instead of two. My life has now become a constant routine. Wake up in the morning, take my morning medications. One pill has to be taken on an empty stomach, so I make sure to wake up early enough that I have time to eat breakfast after waiting 30 minutes for the medication to settle. Nighttime brings another round of medications, many of which are set for specific days. On top of the pills, there's the ovulations tests I need to remember to take. Certain brands respond better to second morning urine, while others require first morning urine, so often times I find myself testing multiple times a day. I have even gone as far as to taking test strips with me to work, so I don't miss my peak. And then there's the routine bloodwork that happens Cycle Day 21 to confirm if my body is doing its job.</p><p>I have officially started feeling like I am losing my mind. I miss the me I was before this became my obsession. But, I'm also struggling to remember that she isn't gone. I just have to work harder to bring the old self back. I will say that this journey has not been as isolating as I thought it would be. I have found a new community of support that I can rely on. It is helpful in knowing that I am not alone. I have started relying more on my faith in this trying time. It has been difficult to say the least, but there is a profound amount of comfort and healing that has occurred through this. </p><p>Learning that I can trust in the Lord's timing while also seeking out professional help and answers to what is causing this infertility has been an interesting balance. I am thankful to have found a team of doctors so willing to help me conceive. My husband is finally on board to go get testing of his own done. I am praying that we have more clarity on our next steps come the end of the month. I do not know when this journey will result in holding my sweet babe in my arms. It could be this year, it could be 2 years from now or even 5 years from now. But I am learning to trust in God's timing. And I am surrendering control, even though the control freak in me doesn't always know how to do that. </p><p><br /></p><p>I had hoped to have a better update six months down the road, but unfortunately that is not the case. I do know I am done holding these emotions in and suffering in silence. Whether you have been trusting to conceive for 1 month, or for 10 years. You are valid, your feelings are valid. You do not have to suffer alone. My heart goes out to anyone who knows this struggle. May we one day find peace and calm in the eye of the storm. </p>Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-30464232207899734852021-04-01T20:24:00.004-07:002021-05-02T23:15:11.988-07:00Looking Back<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxl6NO1h2-wgX5gUgor5nxwdvrhew_yFm_oQkZYpZow3s6Kkq5XOyMgk_wb_1lgLdZSwWhfACK1kmmSllPBBbO4E1NHN8ePSEyKCOIuKCiF4QYLrhONX1XA1-gdjEscuMWSaE682fazk/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1920" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxl6NO1h2-wgX5gUgor5nxwdvrhew_yFm_oQkZYpZow3s6Kkq5XOyMgk_wb_1lgLdZSwWhfACK1kmmSllPBBbO4E1NHN8ePSEyKCOIuKCiF4QYLrhONX1XA1-gdjEscuMWSaE682fazk/" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>Trigger Warning: This article deals with topics of sexual assault </p><p>April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month, and this month is a special month for me.</p><p>Coming up this May marks a milestone I'd never thought I'd need to mark. May 3rd marks the anniversary of my rape. It will be 8 years this year since that day.</p><p>When I first started to process my trauma, I felt the need to shout it from the rooftops and demand that everyone hear my story. I even shared it <a href="http://beejustbeingmyself.blogspot.com/2014/11/confession-time.html">here on this blog.</a> I was angry, I was hurting, most importantly I was scared and confused. I claimed I didn't want the attention I was getting from this post. I didn't want the praise and comments saying how strong and brave I was... but deep down, I really craved that validation. I was branding myself as the victim/survivor, and I was building my identity as the girl who was raped.</p><p>Looking back at the girl who was hurting and demanding to be heard, my heart aches for her. I have come so far since the girl who wrote that article in November of 2014. I am a woman who has processed her trauma in full. I have accepted my rape as an event in my life that shaped my story, but this event does not define who I am. I am no longer the girl who was raped. I am the girl who loves theater, the girl who cares for everyone with an open heart, the girl who fantasizes a little too much. I am a wife to an amazing soul and a dog mom to two furry beasts. My defining personality trait is not that I'm a victim or a survivor of sexual assault, but that I did the Disney College Program for a year and miss working for the mouse with all my heart.</p><p>It has taken me years of therapy, with multiple different therapists to get to this point. I am thankful for all of the support I have received throughout the years. Every person who has listened to my story and helped me to find me voice means more than they will ever know. I am proud of who I am and where I come from. 8 years ago I never would've imagined I'd end up where I am. 5 years ago, if you would've told me that my assault no longer defines me and that I have found peace with such a defining moment of my history I wouldn't have believed it. </p><p>I no longer need to shout it from the rooftops, that ache in my chest and the anxiety that I felt that lead me to share my story so I wouldn't feel so alone is no longer there. I have found a kickass community of support I can lean on. I have found my worth and it's not defined by the actions of someone who quite honestly never deserved so much of my anger and resentment. I have found love and security in my incredible husband. When the moments come where my body shuts down as it remembers the times when my partner's touch wasn't always gentle and loving, he is there to hold me while I cry. He never once makes me feel like I am less of a partner because of my trauma. When I start to doubt my worth, he reminds me who I am and how incredible I am.</p><p><br /></p><p>So yes... I was raped. I guess technically I am a Sexual Assault Survivor, but I am so much more than that. I never imagined I could be living life as fully as I am. And if you are reading this in the same headspace as where I was 7 years ago... I want you to know that I see you. I hear your story and I believe you. If you want to come forward and tell your story, I will stand by your side and help you navigate through it all. You are not alone. You are worthy and you are so loved more than you'll ever know. You are not your story. Just keep fighting.</p>Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-30208301633778113872020-03-23T18:23:00.001-07:002020-03-23T18:51:25.040-07:00Sure Do Love YouHello Again!<br />
Has it been the hottest of seconds since I have posted on here! And wow what a difference nearly 4 years can make. If you had asked me 12 months ago if I thought there would be a shiny new ring on my finger, and that my heart would be so full of love and joy again... I 110% would've called you insane, told you that nobody would ever want this mess and that it doesn't matter because I am taking the year to focus on myself. I truly believed that statement until Ryan came along.<br />
<br />
Ryan and I go way back. In 2011, I moved from my small performing arts high school to the scary new world that was Pine View High School. Joining Band and Theater classes were no question to me, and so into the arts I went. I played the flute, he played the saxophone. We started talking but the butterflies never hit me. Then Junior year started that August and Ryan joined my theater class. Something about that boy joining the thespian ranks made me fall hard and fast into a schoolgirl crush. That schoolgirl crush that went absolutely nowhere because he had a girlfriend. I resigned myself to being his friend because he was such an incredible human and I was content just having his presence in my life. Senior year rolled around and Ryan had moved to California. We stayed in touch and moved on with our lives.<br />
<br />
Fast forward now to June 2020. By this point I had my share of dating and hit my breaking point. I had thrown my hands up in the air and decided to turn it back to God. When my pastor had suggested six months earlier to take a break from dating and lean in to my season of singleness I didn't take him seriously. It took me six months but I had finally accepted the fact that the man was in fact very wise and brought up some valid points I wasn't ready to face within myself. (If you're reading this Pastor Brian, I'm sorry for not listening to you the first time.) It was like something finally clicked and I felt the need to stop searching. I was content with being single. The next relationship I pursued would be the one that'll end in marriage... when I was ready. I remember texting my dear friend Baylee so excited to share with her my revelation and my mission to start preparing my heart for my future husband. This revelation came at the perfect time, I had a trip planned out to California to go visit my family and I was excited for the time away to clear my mind.<br />
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Remember how I mentioned Ryan lived in California? Well every once in a while when I'd go down to visit he'd see I was there and we'd try and meet up and then it never happened. The same thing happened again, only this time he was single. I'm not going to lie, seeing that new relationship status on his page made me excited. I had to laugh and remind myself I'm not supposed to be dating, I'm preparing my heart for someone special... besides Ryan was just a friend and that friendship would never develop into something more. After we failed to meet up, I was sad but Ryan told me he would be moving to St. George at the end of the month and we'll finally have to meet up.<br />
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I remember arranging that first meeting. I was so nervous all day before hand and I had one of my friends at school do my hair before our coffee date. I remember telling her he was my high school theater crush and I have no idea where this is going but I'm excited to have him back in my life. Walking in to Barnes & Noble the second I laid eyes on him my stomach was instantly filled with butterflies. Things were new and awkward between us and I was confused... I mean this is Ryan. He's my best friend. Why are things all of the sudden weird between us? Later I'd find out he'd been thinking of me for a while and that he was nervous to see me again. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew we were talking about starting a relationship together. For the first time in a really long time, I saw a future with someone and I wasn't scared.<br />
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We finally made things official in October... we took our sweet time making sure we knew what we wanted. I joke we were making up for lost time with how fast we went from the boyfriend and girlfriend title to that of fiancee. I never in a million years thought I'd be saying yes to forever with someone after only dating them for three months and that's exactly what I did with Ryan.<br />
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Life is getting scary really fast. But in all of the chaos, he is the one that anchors me. I am grateful to have him, and I know that no matter where this pandemic takes us in the next week or even the next month that we will be facing this together. There is not a soul on this planet that I'd rather face the end of the world with than him... so here's to my forever person. I sure do love you! <3<br />
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Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-74073491230441598432016-06-07T10:41:00.000-07:002016-06-07T10:53:09.270-07:00Picture This<div class="MsoNormal">
Picture this if you will. Picture a seventeen-year-old girl
curled up in her bed sobbing those gut wrenching sobs, the kind that rub your
throat raw. Picture her trying to calm herself down, telling herself everything
is going to be okay. Picture her telling those voices in her head that they
were wrong. The depression didn’t scare him away. Picture her convincing
herself that the boy she’d been dating for the past two and a half months, the
one who just broke her heart, hadn’t raped her. That he wasn’t using her just
for sex. That he really loved her and that he would come to his senses and
they’d be together again. Do you see it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Picture that same girl three years later. She’s tried to
pick up the pieces of what that boy did. She’s tried living a normal life, and
failed. She’s seen countless guys up and leave once they find out she’s a rape
victim. Picture that girl trying to keep the tears from falling every night,
because not only does she have depression but now she has the title of Rape
Victim to add to her various bags of emotional baggage she carries around. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Picture this girl trying to open up and trust again.
Trying to trust that the boy she's dating won’t leave her broken and even more destroyed.
Trying to trust that they aren’t just using her for sex. She eventually gives up and moves on. She
eventually realizes that sex is the only thing that makes them want to stay,
and that that is not the kind of girl she is.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Picture this girl giving up. She is giving up on finding
someone who cares. Someone who is patient enough to wait. Picture her giving up
on being happy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That girl is me. At times I feel I am broken beyond all
repair. It feels like a normal life is too far away and that kills me inside. I
want nothing more than to be normal. However, thanks to the selfish decision
that was made by an ex-boyfriend on that day in May three years ago, a life
that’s normal is not an option. I can’t help but to be angry at him for that.
He broke my trust and ruined any chance I’d ever have at a normal relationship.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know they say all things happen for a reason, but it’s not
fair. If the reason for this happening was to make me stronger, it didn’t work.
I am weak. I want to be strong. I want to say that I’ve gotten over what he
did. That is not the case. I know they all say it takes time. I don’t want to
spend any more time thinking about what he did. Do you know how hard that is
when I meet a great guy and things are moving along, but I have to stop what
we’re doing because it triggers a flashback to that horrible night? I know it’s
not my fault and to be honest, I know that if he really cares about me it won’t
annoy him. But still, I feel bad. I feel bad, because three years ago an
asshole conditioned me to believe that guys hate it when you say no. He
conditioned me to believe that saying no doesn’t work, so why should I waste
the breath?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Three years ago I became permanently damaged. A normal dating
life vanished before my eyes. I know one day I’ll meet someone who can mend the
pieces, but I’ll always be scarred. Three years ago my life was changed in the
worst possible way. I can't change the past, no matter how badly I want to. I can't go back to that night and run away from him. I can't tell him I didn't want to go on our date. I am a victim of sexual assault. That is now a badge that I have to wear. Whether I decide to wear it with honor or with shame depends on the day. I know I say I'm a survivor, but how can you be a survivor when you feel so weak? I thought I'd be over this by now but I'm not. All I can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and hope that over time this all gets easier.<o:p></o:p></div>
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-28029439238261504212015-11-26T10:45:00.000-08:002015-11-26T10:52:59.481-08:00Giving ThanksHappy Thanksgiving!<br />
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So I just wrote a post on my DCP blog <a href="http://beesdcpadventrue.blogspot.com/2015/11/happy-thanksgiving.html" target="_blank">here</a> about what I'm thankful for, but I wanted to do one on here that wasn't as Disney related. I have so much to be thankful for. I am thankful for my wonderful family. Next week I will get to see my dad's parents as well as my biological father, Jeff, and my brother and sister. They're coming up to see me perform in Dicken's Festival. I seriously couldn't have asked for a better family. My parents have been amazing. They're letting me live with them to save money for the Disney College Program. Throughout my entire life I've never had a support system better than that of my mom and dad. It's going to be so weird not to have them right up the road when I'm living in Florida, but my mom is constantly reminding me I'm doing what's best for my future and it's her words of support that help me when I'm second guessing my choice.<br />
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I am also so incredibly thankful for my beautiful best friend Ashley. This girl has been a life saver the past four years that I've known her. She's been there through every big moment of mine it feels like. Every breakup, she's been there with ice cream, an open ear and a shoulder to cry on. When I'm feel the depression start creeping in, I call her and it goes away. When I start freaking out and overthinking, she's there to calm me down. I'm seriously going to be so lost without her being a drive away while I'm out at Disney. I feel so blessed to have known her and it's an honor to call her my best friend.</div>
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I also feel like Olivia needs her own section in this post. Next to Ashley she has been another incredibly close friend of mine. Watching her grow and change into the woman she's become has been so amazing. And now she's married with a baby on the way and I'm so excited for this next chapter in her life. I'm so thankful that we had that theatre class together all those years ago that brought us together. We may be apart in distance but we will always be together in heart.</div>
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I'm also thankful for theatre. For all the teachers I've had that have helped shape me into the actor I am today. I wouldn't be the person I am today without theatre's influence. And I never would've found that passion if it hadn't been for Mrs. Broadhead. I owe everything I am today to her. Theatre has been my biggest escape from reality. Theatre has always been my safe place and that will never change. </div>
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I have so much to be thankful for today, and I hope you do too. Have a very happy Thanksgiving and be safe today folks!</div>
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-25914716649508464622015-09-20T20:54:00.003-07:002015-09-20T20:54:47.740-07:00DCP UpdateSo a few weeks ago I applied for the Disney College Program. It's an amazing opportunity and I did a post on that <a href="http://beejustbeingmyself.blogspot.com/2015/08/disney-college-program.html" target="_blank">here.</a> Well I was checking my email the other day and I saw this beautiful message:<br />
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I am beyond ecstatic to announce that I will be attending the Disney College Program for the Spring Advantage 2016. It was not an easy decision, but I know that if I turn this down I will regret it for the rest of my life. I can't wait to see what this experience has in store for me. In less than four months I will be working for one of the most magical places on earth. I feel incredibly blessed and lucky that everything worked out in the end. Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-81022292251109021572015-08-29T23:00:00.003-07:002015-08-29T23:02:53.679-07:00Another Show, Another Closing Night... Or Two.When I auditioned for <em>Fiddler on the Roof</em> at a local theatre here in town, I never thought that I could get cast in the children's show <em>Bridge to Terabithia. </em>Imagine my surprise when I was approached by the director to be an understudy for Miss Edmunds, as well as an Assistant Stage Manager. I eagerly agreed, and thus began one of the craziest summers I've experienced so far. While I was disappointed to have not made it into <em>Fiddler</em>, I am so thankful to have been given the opportunity to have worked on <em>Bridge to Terabithia.</em> Because it is a children's show, most of the roles were double cast meaning we have two closing nights. Tonight was the final performance ever of <i>Bridge to Terabithia</i> at Brigham's Playhouse.<br />
Closing night is always a bittersweet feeling. I'm anxious to move on to the next show, or to even have a break from shows and have a chance to breathe for a little while before jumping into the next production. But on the other side of that, I'm never ready to say goodbye to my cast members who most of the time have become my second family over the weeks on end that we've worked together. Closing a show never gets any easier, even with shows I've felt no real investment in. I still struggle to wrap my mind around the fact that after this show, I won't get to spend every evening with these people, some of whom I've become very close to in the time we've worked together. <br />
This show has taught me so much, and I've been very lucky to have worked with the amazing cast and crew that we have. I kept telling myself I wouldn't cry and I failed, I always do. You know what they say, "when one show closes, another one opens." <em>Bridge to Terabithia</em> may be closing but there are more shows on the horizon and I can't wait to see what they are and what's in store for me.<br />
I'm so thankful and blessed for every part of this experience and I would do it all again if I was given the chance. Dr. Seuss once said "don't cry because it's over, smile because it's happened." What a perfect saying to end this blog post and this show with. I am sad to say goodbye, but the memories will remain and I wouldn't have it any other way.<br />
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Red Cast Closing Night:<br />
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<i>Silly Faces!</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DYQWLPp9Aj1H-q0DZ1PoZgMrYpeXav_WlXpDVXPL84xcAB5OMNPi3GV7s4Yye6AWAlrXCdC7pUk1buun5tiRPjoQHb9FKdTb9OS2SRf8BIEv067YmZAnMWRKhqxH7Y9RbrTuER1z1KM/s1600/20150829_210954%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DYQWLPp9Aj1H-q0DZ1PoZgMrYpeXav_WlXpDVXPL84xcAB5OMNPi3GV7s4Yye6AWAlrXCdC7pUk1buun5tiRPjoQHb9FKdTb9OS2SRf8BIEv067YmZAnMWRKhqxH7Y9RbrTuER1z1KM/s320/20150829_210954%255B1%255D.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<i>Me, Cameron and Barkley.</i> <i>Cameron played Jesse Aarons</i></div>
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<i>Me and Audra, one of the Leslie Burkes</i></div>
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<i>Stella!!!!!!! Stella was the adorable May Belle Aarons.</i></div>
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<i>Lindsay, who played Brenda, Jesse's older sister.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv07DEbbBlD2wtDjhd_0_eCl3_8bRnaWFqHzQ60o-FX77-99bbOjHGniKSzuP2OfvFyh0dZfc89Dmu4IdHJT0JRPC3mKL61OGq-92TGVTHtF2THoCT907e_c8iGCikG0Xlh2Ojhdzd9HE/s1600/20150829_211455%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv07DEbbBlD2wtDjhd_0_eCl3_8bRnaWFqHzQ60o-FX77-99bbOjHGniKSzuP2OfvFyh0dZfc89Dmu4IdHJT0JRPC3mKL61OGq-92TGVTHtF2THoCT907e_c8iGCikG0Xlh2Ojhdzd9HE/s320/20150829_211455%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Thank you Red Cast for a great show.</i></div>
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Green Cast: There's not a lot of pictures, but you get the gist.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJJA9QkEusdi4CLusBe1u9buYVx8LbQNDosvA4jXiKksTkXmGbteUFejJZ8sHsgr-G7791kihjbmvweAkXFRpIffUsKVQ8TF8lazVlZ8Z8xE_vk0M1HtC20SsRxz6s1o7xYyWURIOFsA/s1600/20150827_180237%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJJA9QkEusdi4CLusBe1u9buYVx8LbQNDosvA4jXiKksTkXmGbteUFejJZ8sHsgr-G7791kihjbmvweAkXFRpIffUsKVQ8TF8lazVlZ8Z8xE_vk0M1HtC20SsRxz6s1o7xYyWURIOFsA/s320/20150827_180237%255B1%255D.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<i>Keaton, who played Jesse Aarons.</i></div>
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<i>Silly Faces are my favorite pictures</i></div>
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<i>Thank you Green Cast for a great show!</i></div>
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-83985352651178379002015-08-25T13:36:00.001-07:002015-08-25T13:36:35.623-07:00Disney College ProgramSo about two months ago, I started looking into attending the Disney College Program. What the Disney College Program is a chance for college students to take the semester and go to either Walt Disney World Resort in Florida or Disneyland in California and do an internship. This is a great opportunity, and it's piqued my interest. I'm a huge Disney fan, I love everything that Disney is. I would give anything to work for one of the most magical companies out there. I've been reading blogs and watching YouTube videos and with each new view I get more and more excited for when my turn comes. I've decided that I will most likely do the program in the fall of 2016, due to conflicts with school. I'm Assistant Director for one of the shows we're doing in the spring and I'm working under one of my favorite professors, an experience that I am beyond ecstatic for. Not only that, but I'll finally have my Associate's Degree this spring. I've put graduating with my Associate's off by a year, and I'm not about ready to extend that even longer. Regardless of all the reasons why I can't do the DCP in the spring, I still decided to apply. I want to see if I have what it takes to get accepted into what's apparently one of the most selective programs out there. If I get accepted for the spring, then I know I'll have what it takes to get accepted in the fall.<br />
I submitted my application on the first day the applications opened, and today I checked my email to see I've been selected to move on to the Web Based Interview. I read that email and started jumping up and down in my living room. I was anxious, because I've heard the WBI is hard to pass, but guess what? I passed! I am moving on to the phone interview! I know I probably shouldn't get excited because there is no way I can back out of my commitment to be Assistant Director, but I can't help it. I can schedule my phone interview tomorrow, and I guess I'll just go from there. Even though I'm not going in the spring, now I know what I can expect for the when I apply for the fall semester. I'll just take things one day at a time.<br />
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The two best things I've read on a screen in a long time :)Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-45213480985899178272015-06-22T20:38:00.000-07:002015-06-23T07:09:18.907-07:00Stop the ShamingIt's been a while since I've posted but there's something I just can't seem to shake off my mind. When I first <a href="http://beejustbeingmyself.blogspot.com/2014/11/confession-time.html" target="_blank">broke the silence regarding my rape,</a> I thought I was strong enough to share my story. That thought was quickly turned down three days later when I had a level 10 meltdown, I couldn't speak, it was hard to breathe and the tears were horrible, genuinely nasty sobs that choke your throat and leave your face covered in snot. The suffocation continued to grow worse until I finally wrote a letter <a href="http://beejustbeingmyself.blogspot.com/2015/01/to-my-rapist.html" target="_blank">to my rapist</a> and let my relief come through my writing as it always has. In the months since these posts I like to think I've grown and learned more about myself through these experiences. I'm slowly starting to find my voice again. I'm no longer afraid to tell my story to others, in fact I'll gladly share it with anyone who asks and even those who probably could've carried on their lives never knowing that information. I'm still nervous to share my story but it's no longer from the fact that I'm afraid of the consequences I'll have to face when my ex finally does find out. I know what happened that night and even if he wants to deny it, that will never change the fact that he continued to have sex with me when I very clearly told him to stop, multiple times at various stages of the evening including during the moment. That my friends is what we call rape. I'm nervous because I don't know how people will respond to my news and whether or not it will be support or shame.<br />
What happened that night was not my fault. The woman who wore provocative clothing and teased her rapist on but said no and tried to stop him, it wasn't her fault. The girlfriend who may have slept with her boyfriend in the past but said no to his advances yet he forced himself on her, it's not her fault either. The man who told a woman (or man) no, yet still had sex forced on him, yep not his fault either. It is never the victims fault. I am going to repeat myself because this concept is so hard for people to grasp, it is never the victims fault they were raped, ever. It doesn't matter if they've had sex with the person before, if they misled their rapists, if they wore a dress that was too short or even if they were walking around bare butt naked. Having sex forced upon a person is called rape, end of story. If at any point that person has said no and the sex continues to happen, that is rape. Rape is nobody's fault but the horny bastard who refused to take no as an answer. End of freaking story. Please stop slut shaming rape victims! (Actually stop slut shaming period, seriously people get a life and mind your own freaking business.)<br />
We already feel ashamed for what happened and we don't need your derogatory comments making us feel worse. If someone is bold enough, or trusts you enough to confide in you the dirty little details of what happened when they were raped be supportive. Rape is the most unreported crime, do you know why? Because there is such a stigma attached to it. If you can't prove it didn't happen, don't bother reporting it because who knows if people will even believe you. While that previous statement may not exactly be true, that is exactly how we feel. We don't need your criticism or your crude remarks, what we need are your support and kind words. If you can't think of what to say, that's okay! You can tell us that you don't know how to respond to what we've told you. You can tell us you're sorry, you can tell us that sucked. But what we don't want to hear are things like "I'd never do anything like that." My reaction to that comment is usually along the lines of "I'd hope you'd never rape someone you asshole." My personal favorite response to my story in particular is, "well yeah, but hadn't you guys already slept together?" Um, no we hadn't actually and so what if we had? I said no, he still had sex with me. That is rape, rape is rape. Rape is many things, but one thing it's not is the victim's fault. No means no. Just because someone was raped does not mean they were asking for it. I know I certainly was not asking to lose my virginity in a way like that. I hope that one day the ignorance people have regarding rape will be vanished and this issue will be taken seriously. Ignorance isn't always bliss, especially in the eyes of the countless victims you are shaming when you make comments about the outfit she was wearing or the way a person acts around others. Stop the ignorance and the shaming. End the stigma attached to rape. How will the victims ever heal if we're heistant to discuss what happened to us because we're afraid of being judged? Just food for thought.Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-18873410780964445902015-01-11T10:35:00.004-08:002015-02-21T07:22:28.290-08:00To my RapistI can't help but wonder if you think about me. I wonder if you've heard about me coming clean, if the thought terrifies you as much as it did me. I wonder if you know what you did was wrong or if you're still in denial, or maybe you honestly don't believe what you did was rape. I'm glad you're gone, that I never have to see you. I like not knowing when you come to town. But on the flip side of that, I never know. If I'm out shopping and I see someone who looks like you I panic. The anxiety builds and I'm frozen with terror. My heart races and I hurry to control my frantic breathing, to mask to the world around me that I'm ten seconds away from a massive panic attack. When you ended up at the same restaurant as my family and me, I refused to move from my table and chose to stay safe behind the wall dividing us.<br />
I forgive you. I really do, but that doesn't mean I ever want to see your face again. That doesn't mean I can't still be angry. I am still incredibly furious at what you did to me, you ruined me. There's been far too many days like today, where I'm too emotionally distraught to leave my house. There have been many meltdowns, most of them private in the darkness of my room when I'm laying in bed thinking about everything. I used to be such a strong person, and then you happened. Now my facade is starting to crack. Because of you I don't know if I'll ever truly feel safe in my small town. I know that is ridiculous, I have plenty of people I can round up to protect me, but still there are times when I panic for no good reason at all.<br />
You didn't just ruin my emotional well-being, you ruined my trust. Before you I found it was easy to open up to anybody I felt was worthy of my relationship. Now, it's a struggle. I'm constantly doubting if their intentions are true. I know this is ridiculous but I feel like you've ruined any chance at a happy relationship for me. I say it's ridiculous because I know I have to power to change that. It's not all your fault, except that I feel nobody wants to be with me once they find out what happened. I mean, come on, I'm just the Girl Who Was Raped. You're who I have to thank for that title. I want so much more for my life than to just be the Rape Victim. I am honestly trying to move past it, but when people find out what happened on the day in May 2013, I see the way they view me change.<br />
In some warped and twisted way, I'm thankful for what you did. Because of you, my trust isn't so easy to come by. I'm more cautious, especially around any guy I see as a potential boyfriend. I now know to actually pay attention to the warning signs in a relationship, instead of ignoring them. Because if I could go back and talk to myself that senior year of high school, I would tell her to pay attention to those red flags and to run like hell before saying yes to dating you. But I can't go back. It's in the past and I have to move on. I don't know if you'll ever read this, but if you do I want you to know that yes, you raped me. I said no, I went to leave the car. I kept saying no as it was happening. I regret not telling you why I was mad at you, because even then I knew what you did was rape I just don't think I was willing to admit that. You hurt me in more ways than you will ever know. I forgive you, and I pray for you.Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-63733897935145980752014-12-13T11:28:00.002-08:002014-12-13T11:36:24.445-08:00Depression SucksDepression sucks. It's one of those things that I don't think you can ever fully understand until you've been through it. That's how it was for me. I could never understand how someone could do that to themselves and those around them. I can't really tell you when or why my depression hit me, all I know is it did. I can't describe it, I've tried and every time the sentence gets deleted. I can tell you this: it's a horrible disease. It's the kind of thing where I want people to notice that I'm not okay but at the same time I don't want them to ask me if I'm okay because I don't want to lie to them and say I'm okay when I'm really not.<br />
Depression sucks. On one hand, I want to go out with friends and be social. I want to go to rehearsals and get involved. I want to interact with people, I really do. Instead I stay at home in bed with <i>Gilmore Girls </i>and Facebook. I shut people out and it kills me. I have no idea why this happens it just does. Give it a couple days and I'll probably be back to my usual social self. I can vent to my best friend and get it all off my chest and think to myself that everything's going to be fine and in an hour or so it's back to feeling miserable for no reason.<br />
Depression sucks. It causes people to shut out those closest to them. It strikes at any given place and time without warning. One day you can be feeling great and then the next day you find it's impossible to get out of bed in the morning. It's incredibly hard to fight off that doom and gloom feeling. Those voices in your head that tell you to give up. Those voices that tell you to stop fighting, they tell you you're not worth it. Those voices that make you question how anyone could love you in your condition. Those voices that are so hard to ignore. It's nightmarish.<br />
Depression sucks. It attacks your very being. It takes simple things that shouldn't get you down too much, such as not spending time with family over the holidays and makes it so that tiny thing suffocates you. The weight of it crushing your ability to go even get out of bed. It may even leave you contemplating self harm, which sounds horrible but in your twisted depressed mind that is the only solution that will help make the pain you're feeling on the inside go away. Little do you know with that first cut you make you won't ever want to stop. You'll think you've got it under control but soon you'll find that your belly is now covered in cuts and the need to cut is so ravaging that soon you move on to cutting your upper legs, because those can be hidden by shorts. And when your legs fill up you move to your wrists. You may finally realize at that point that you have a problem, you have become addicted to the pain. Later, if you're lucky enough to beat the addiction, you'll find that when the depression strikes again you're itching to cut but at the same time you're terrified to do so because you know once you make that first cut you won't be able to stop yourself.<br />
Depression sucks. It causes you to lie to those you love. You tell them that you're okay, you're feeling better now. But in reality you're still crying yourself to sleep at night. You tell them that when you feel this way again you'll reach out to them and talk to them. You don't even reach for the phone as you contemplate ending your life right there, right now. You hide from your family the darkness inside. You fear what will happen if they ever find out. You feel like a constant failure and permanently weak because of the depression. Little do you know that by fighting this disease every day you're a stronger person than most. <br />
Depression sucks, but until you've gone through it you'll never truly know how ugly this disease is. I hope and pray you never have to experience depression but if you do please know you're not alone in your fight. If you're experiencing depression now, keep fighting. You may feel weak, I know I constantly do. You may never feel like light will shine through this darkness, but it does. There is light in this tunnel, and while it may only be a window shining through and not the end of the tunnel it is still light. Just keep fighting, for yourself, for your friends and family. There's a quote from a Thought Catalog article I read that decorates my room (I'll attach the link at the bottom of this post). It's the first thing I see before I leave for the day, it says "your depression does not get to win this war." Remember that. In this battle you are fighting, depression sucks and it drastically alters your way of life but it DOES NOT get to win this battle. YOU get to be the winner. Just keep fighting, I know it's hard, trust me I do. Just keep fighting because it'll all be worth it in the end.<br />
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Here's the link to that article I promised. It's a great read: <a href="http://thoughtcatalog.com/ari-eastman/2014/11/please-do-not-let-your-depression-win/" target="_blank">Please Do Not Let Your Depression Win by Ari Eastman</a>Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-57180777525201370752014-11-10T15:33:00.001-08:002014-11-10T15:33:11.893-08:00Rape CultureRape culture in today's society makes me so incredibly furious. Even before I was raped I couldn't stand it. Since my rape, I hate even more. Rape is never the victim's fault. As a victim, I'd like to believe that myself. But here's the truth: thanks to rape culture I believe that what happened to me is all my fault. That I am the only one to blame for what happened. Thanks to rape culture I feel even worse about that night. <br />
You see rape culture teaches us that it's the girl's fault if a girl wears a skirt that's too short, if she flirts with a boy, if heaven forbid she was drinking, if she's wearing too much makeup, the list goes on an on. Just because I chose to wear that adorable new dress I bought that day for our date, (a dress that isn't any way shape or form immodest) because I chose to be alone with someone I trust and let them kiss me, it's my fault I was raped? That doesn't make any sense.<br />
No means no. I said no, he didn't listen. That is rape. Okay, so yes there are times where I consented to having sex. Please know that I knew he wouldn't listen to me when I told him no. Also know that I was in love with him, sex was the only thing I thought could make him stay. Rape culture also tends to make circumstances like that cancel my rape out. For a while, it's what cancelled it out in my mind. Because I consented at some point in time, my rape wasn't valid. I know now how wrong that thought is. It is not my fault I was made a victim. I just wish society could learn to see it that way.Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-9134425493463149602014-11-09T22:17:00.000-08:002014-11-10T09:02:01.137-08:00Breaking the SilenceI was raped. That never gets easier to say. I was raped. A year and a half ago, I was madly in love with a boy I thought I was going to marry and he raped me. We were on a date, things were going fine until he crossed a line. I told him no, I said stop. He eased off only to try again. This time I made the move to leave. He wouldn't let me leave. I wish I would've fought harder, jumped out of that truck and ran, even though we were literally in the middle of nowhere. I didn't though, and even if I had I don't think my story would be different. I would still have been raped, just in a different time and place.<br />
He was controlling. He wanted what he wanted and refused to take no for an answer. I was naive and believed deep down that I saw some good in him. I wish I could say that I left him after that night. That I told my mom and reported him to the police. Sadly, that was not the case. I was in denial, I was trying to tell myself that I wasn't raped. I didn't fight hard enough, I gave up too easy, does that count as rape? I knew it did. I knew it was wrong and it'd happen again and yet, I still stayed. And since no wasn't a sufficient answer I stopped fighting it. I let myself get further into a sexually abusive relationship.<br />
I ignored it all, I let it kill me inside. I felt dirty and used. He ended things. It's funny, I saw he was growing distant. I had all my friends telling me I needed to end things but I didn't want to hear it. He ended things, claiming that he didn't want any ties when he left for boot camp. I cried, and cried. My parents guessed that we had sex, I never told them it was anything other than consensual. I didn't want to say it out loud. I was raped. It took months for me to finally admit I was raped. It took even longer for me to finally tell my parents.<br />
That brought up the debate of do we file a police report? Did I really want to live that all over again? I'm a victim. Worse, I'm afraid of how the courts would see my story. I feel they'd see me as a "crazy ex girlfriend." There's no proof of what happened, it's my word against his. That's one thing that's stopping me. Another is he's in the Air Force. He is far away from me. Let's say I win in court and he gets kicked out of the Air Force. He'd probably have to come back home and live right up the road from me. I'd be more likely to run into him in my small town. But what if because I never reported him he rapes someone else? That's all on me. Can I live with myself knowing that? According to both of his exes I've talked to, I'm the only one he's raped. That helps to solidify my choice.<br />
I need to heal, and I feel like the best way to do that is to not drag myself through the court system. Yes, I could win the trial but I could also lose and that will crush me. I like to tell myself that, thanks to some therapy, I've moved on. But I don't know for sure that I fully have. This is something I will carry around with me for the rest of my life. I've been keeping this bottled up, trying to forget and it's driving me crazy. I needed to get it out there. I need to begin healing and silence wasn't helping.Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-38392712432722674192014-11-05T09:56:00.000-08:002014-11-05T09:56:58.151-08:00Opening DaySo I'm a Theatre Major, right? And part of being a Theatre Major is getting involved with shows. Last show I was a dresser and that was interesting. I basically helped the actors get ready, made sure costumes looked good. When the show was over for the night I helped to spray the costumes so they didn't stink, cleaned the dressing rooms and washed the articles of clothing that had to be washed. This experience helped me gain so much respect for the dresser's position. But that's not really what this article is about.<br />
Every semester we do two shows. A straight play, which is just acting no big huge musical numbers, and a musical. Our straight play was <em>Much Ado About Nothing.</em> I'd auditioned for the show but wasn't cast, hence why I was a dresser. Our musical was originally going to be <em>Coram Boy</em>, however the director felt he had taken on too much and decided to pull the plug on <em>Coram Boy</em>. <em>Amadeus</em> was chosen as our second Fall production. Two problems came up with <em>Amadeus</em>, the first one being we don't really have a lot of males in the department. The second one was there was no director. That being the case, <em>Amadeus</em> got the ax as well. Well we needed something to fill the slot and so a devised piece was proposed and accepted.<br />
What is a devised piece? It is a show that is written, designed and run by the students. We came up with a central theme for the show, perfection. Everyone has different ideas of perfection and we wanted to show that. And so after plenty of meetings and debates Perfection: A Dixie State University Devised Piece was born. Each of us in the company wrote our own vignette on how we see perfection/ how we struggle with trying to be perfect. For example, my piece deals with depression. I play a cutter and in the background are the voices in my head I have to battle every day. It hits really close to home because as I'm sure most of you know, I used to be a cutter.<br />
This show has been one of my most challenging and rewarding productions that I've been a part of. To create a brand new work of art that nobody's seen before is such a great feeling. My body is sore, both my knees have giant bruises from all the falling that takes place in this show. I have super fast quick changes that I have no idea how I manage. Oh and I've already managed to cut myself. Did you know sharp mirror corners are sharp? There has been some serious tension between the cast and to be 100% honest here, if nobody ends up dead by the end of the run I deserve a cookie. Despite all the things that have gone wrong, I'm still in awe at the final product. I feel incredibly lucky to have stood up for myself and chosen to major in Theatre. We have an incredibly beautiful show and I can't wait for others to see it.<br />
Opening day is upon us. This is our second time running the full show with lights, sound, costumes all that fun stuff. I'm not going to lie, I'm nervous. I however, have no doubts in my mind that we can pull this thing together and have a fantastic run. Closing night will be here before we know it and we'll no longer have rehearsals full of inside joke and touching moments. The show will live on only in our memories. We've created this amazingly beautiful and touching piece. We did it. Now it's time to break a leg and cherish this while it lasts.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-38812039682860298522014-11-02T18:17:00.001-08:002014-11-03T14:36:43.142-08:0040 Things I Wish I Had Known When I Was 15So it's been forever since I've posted on here. Life's been crazy. I was hanging out with my friends last night, one of which included my crush from Sophomore year in high school. I can't help but think about how happy Sophomore Becca would've been to see that I was hanging out with the boy who was my obsession for a good chunk of Sophomore year. The whole experience got me to thinking, what would I say to my younger self if I could go back in time? I know I've done a post like this last year with <a href="http://beejustbeingmyself.blogspot.com/2013/08/dear-16-year-old-me.html" target="_blank">Dear 16 Year Old Me</a>, but that was over a year ago and things have changed. So here are 40 things I wish I'd known when I was 15.<br />
<ol>
<li>Stop taking things way too personally. Yes, you're going to get lied to and cheated on (Senior year, it sucks but you move on) you'll feel betrayed by those who are closest to you. Don't let that ruin your friendships. Just let things go, everybody makes mistakes and forgiveness is a trait you need to learn.</li>
<li>Don't be afraid to tell that cute guy in our Spanish class how you feel. You'll kick yourself for not saying something... Especially when you move schools.</li>
<li>Don't fight your parents about the whole changing schools thing. Moving to Pine View is one of the best things to happen to you. You meet your best friend there, and you'll also meet the best theatre teacher ever. She's the reason you decide to pursue a theatre degree in the first place.</li>
<li> Boys are overrated. Just focus on yourself, and stop trying to find a boyfriend.</li>
<li>Death happens. Losing people is part of life, yes it sucks to watch but the more people you lose the more numb you feel. </li>
<li>Being numb to death is scary.</li>
<li>Fight the depression. Fight like hell.</li>
<li>Don't even think about starting to cut. Just don't, that'll be the worst decision you make. </li>
<li>Be open about your depression. It's awesome that you overcome a horrible illness. Just remember there's a time and a place for that.</li>
<li>Stop being clingy. Just stop.</li>
<li>Your grades aren't everything. It's okay to get a C.</li>
<li>Senior year isn't all it's cracked up to be. Just learn to make the best with what you're given.</li>
<li>Let the things that happen in Senior Year go. It's in the past, leave it there. You'll be ten times happier.</li>
<li>Don't lose your passion for music.</li>
<li>Work harder in band. You're actually a pretty good flutist when you put in the effort.</li>
<li>You're not going to get every role you go out for. Welcome to Theatre. Learn to live with the rejection.</li>
<li>It's okay to cry.</li>
<li> Don't ever feel like you have to bottle up your emotions.</li>
<li>Stop being so insecure. You're an amazing girl. Yes, you're dramatic and your personality is huge, own that. Your insecurity will get the best of you, don't let that happen.</li>
<li>Learn how to love your body. You're not fat. You have curves, love them.</li>
<li>Don't every feel like you have to start a diet. Especially for a boy.</li>
<li>Never let a boy control your life. If you have to change any part of who you are for him, he's so not worth it.</li>
<li>Find your voice.</li>
<li>Stop trash talking others. It doesn't make you look good. </li>
<li>Think before you speak.</li>
<li>Lift others up, don't tear them down.</li>
<li>Saying yes to teaching Middle School Ministry is a great decision.</li>
<li>Middle School Ministry is far from easy. There will be times you want to pull your hair out. The kids don't listen, you feel like they're not learning anything, circumstances aren't what they should be. Don't ever give up. Even if it feels like the kids don't need you, you need them.</li>
<li>God works in funny ways. Trust in his plan, even if it's not what you had in mind.</li>
<li>It's okay to make mistakes, as long as you learn from them and don't repeat them.</li>
<li>For your own sake, learn when to say no. </li>
<li>Stand up for yourself.</li>
<li>Quit Wendy's.</li>
<li>Retail therapy is a good thing.</li>
<li>Just remember to stay on budget.</li>
<li>Managing your money will save you from so much stress.</li>
<li>Actual therapy is good too.</li>
<li>Find who your real friends are and be good to them.</li>
<li>Stop being so fake.</li>
<li>Embrace who you are. Yes, you're flawed but you're perfectly imperfect. You have a scarred past (trust me on this one, you will) but it's what makes you who you are. You're not always going to be strong. You're not always going to be weak either. It's okay to be weak, it really is. 2 Corinthians 12:10 "That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.<span style="background-color: cyan;"> For when I am weak, then I am strong</span>."<span class="p"><br /></span></li>
</ol>
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-10336206467204959362014-05-30T20:25:00.001-07:002014-05-30T20:31:43.154-07:00The Right Decision?A year ago I was certain that when I officially graduated out of the youth group at my church that I would become a statistic... you know one of the 72% or something like that of teens who leave the church after graduating high school. I had absolutely no reason to continue going to church after that. My parents wouldn't care, I'd had a feeling they were unhappy with our church anyways. Then I was approached by one of the leaders over the middle school ministry and he told me that he thought I would be a great asset to the program and he'd love to have me as one of the assistants. I told him that I would pray about it and see. A few days later I felt that I had to do this. I wanted to make a difference and this was a great way to do so. After that last summer camp, I joined the High Tides ministry and found myself growing attached to the kids up there.<br />
<div>
I've loved every second that I've been involved up there with the middle schoolers. I've formed bonds with several students and I've seen so many of "my kids" as I lovingly call them grow into these awesome people. I mean just last Sunday, I had one of my students who wouldn't even speak during the lesson in the beginning of the year in class and she was actively participating... not only that but she was smiling and happy! At first I'd never thought about leaving. Not even when my parents left our church for a new place. I couldn't even fathom leaving my kids. These are children I have spent the past year with. These are students I joke around with. These are people that I've developed a bond with, each and everyone of my "regular" students... the ones who are there every Sunday and every Wednesday have earned a special place in my heart. I know these kids feel close to me. We'll have long conversations together after lesson on Sunday and before classes start on Wednesday. I want to do everything I can to keep them from feeling hurt. I especially never wanted to be the one to hurt them.</div>
<div>
But I never saw this coming. I never imagined something would happen that would make me think about stepping down. Even now just thinking about leaving my kids makes the tears threaten to spill. I've spent the past 24 hours in a constant haze. Part of me feels like I should remain loyal to my family and I know what they want: for me to step down and to come join them at their church. My mom's even told me I could start some form of a youth program up there at their church. And there is a big part of me that wants to believe the things my mom is telling me. Things that are helping to haze my vision about what to do. But there is that other part that reminds me I don't know everything. I shouldn't be too rash and I need to sit down and pray, I need to let my mind clear up and think even more seriously about leaving. There is a huge part of me that is concerned about my kids. This is the part of me that feels so heartbroken right now. Every time I think about stepping down I start to cry. I've started composing a message to my leaders telling them I want to step down but I never can finish it. I can't stand the idea of hurting my kids. And it will hurt them. They won't know why I'm leaving... they'll just know I'm leaving them.</div>
<div>
It's the fact that I haven't managed to stop crying... literally. The fact that I feel so devastated that is keeping me from letting go. Part of me feels like the "right" choice would be to leave. And that is why I said on Facebook that the right choice is sometimes heartbreakingly painful. It's incredibly painful that I'm even considering leaving. This is the reason why I haven't stepped down officially yet. Because I don't quite feel right about it. I know that if this is what I was supposed to do I wouldn't be so upset about it. I'd be able to make it through the day without feeling depressed. Maybe I'm being overdramatic but that's how I feel. </div>
<div>
So for now, I'll just keep praying. I'll pray for peace, I'll pray for his wisdom to help guide me. I will pray for each and every one of my middle school children. And I will sit down and read my Bible. I will be patient and avoid making any rash decisions I know I'll regret. Most importantly I will stop thinking about what's expected of me. I will think about where God needs me to be and right now, I feel like I am needed in those kids lives. If not for their sake than for mine. Because if I'd never became an assistant, I wouldn't be the Christian I am today. Each and every class I learn something and I grow a little more myself. That definitely is worth something in the end. And no matter what my final decision is this past year has been a huge blessing and I am beyond grateful for that.</div>
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-79973520826297409672014-03-05T13:14:00.002-08:002014-03-05T13:14:46.630-08:00Dear MattHi Matt,<br />
Wow. You've been gone for five years now. It feels like you left us not so long ago. I struggled with your loss for a while. You were my first major experience with death. I was thirteen and not sure what to do. I remember seeing your mom torn to pieces over losing you. She was crying over your casket and wouldn't let them lower you down, she didn't want to say goodbye. I didn't learn how you died until about two years after you died. My mom told me it was suicide and that Stephanie blames herself. I was pissed. I couldn't believe you would be so heartless. I wanted to go out to your gravesite and yell at you. I wanted to scream and kick your headstone, to pound the ground by your grave. You killed your mother inside when you did that. You hurt us all. I didn't think I would ever forgive you for that. And then my own depression hit me. I wanted to kill myself, but never could go through with it because I thought of your suicide and the effect it had on you mom. If suicide could crumble even the strongest person in my life, my rock when my life was shaken, I knew it would drive my mom to her own depression and I couldn't hurt her like that. I was still mad at you. I mean if I could manage to think this rationally, why couldn't you? Fast forward a few months and I just couldn't see that light at the end of the tunnel anymore. The suicidal thoughts came more frequently and a couple times I gave in. Tried desperately to end it all. But each time I'd think about Stephanie and I couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt my family. It was then that my attitude changed. I began to understand why you did it. It's extremely hard to fight that voice that keeps telling you it will be better to end your life. I began to grow more thankful towards your suicide. It is what has kept me fighting every day when I wake up. It is what makes me shake off that little voice that tells me to cut again, but this time cut that place where I won't stop bleeding. So thank you. Because of you suicide is never an option for me. Because of you I will keep fighting, I won't make the same mistake you did. Because of you Donavon turned his life around. He's married now and is currently away at boot camp. Because of you he gave up drugs. Your mom is clean now too, after you died she starting drinking but she's better. She's teaching English at Dixie State and she loves it. Maybe things would've been better if you hadn't killed yourself. Maybe you would've gotten clean and stayed that way. You would've gone to school and done something with your life. Maybe you wouldn't have and both you and Donavon would've gone off the deep end together. Maybe I wouldn't have gotten that experience with your suicide and I wouldn't be here right now to write you this letter. We'll never know what would've happened if you hadn't committed suicide and dwelling on it isn't helping me get over it. Truth is you were selfish and you did kill yourself. The truth of the matter is you hurt us all. It's an experience I wish we never had to go through but we did. You made us all a little bit better through your death. That has to count for something and I thank you for that.<br />
Yours,<br />
BeccaBecca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-38796934877970010802013-12-18T12:46:00.001-08:002013-12-18T12:50:49.691-08:00Dear God.Dear God, <br />
I am mad at you. There I said it. I am angry with you! I know that you love us and that you do everything in order to make us the best person possible but I am still furious. I'm only eighteen, so why do I know so much loss? Every time I tell myself it's okay and move on, another person is gone. I just don't get it! I look back to July and losing Ron. I was totally numb, I didn't know whether or not to be relieved or upset over that. I didn't feel anything, not even after seeing my mom break down and cry. You took away Paul as I was still getting to know him. At fifteen I was hating myself because I was wishing my uncle dead due to the amount of pain he was in. You tested my faith during that time, it wasn't easy and I hated you for it. Then you took Nolan only a couple days later. Sure we weren't close after I left Tuacahn but we were still friends. I was heartbroken. Before then I'd never experienced loss and now you took away two people from my lives.<br />
I was fine and I was healing from losing Paul and Nolan, until you took Gigi. Gigi who was the only thing still holding my family together. Yes, I know that she was suffering here on earth just like Paul was. I know that they are both better off, happy and free of pain, but that doesn't change the fact that I can't call them up and talk to them. I miss my crazy Gigi, with her kind heart that was always full of love. I miss my whacky Uncle Paul with his ridiculous stories that always brought a smile to my face. I miss them! As if losing Gigi wasn't enough you took away Nate from Phil and Melissa. Yes, they are amazing people, probably even more so now because of this, but you caused them pain. A family who has been nothing but kind to everyone. The family which is the only reason that my parents are still together. It just wasn't fair!<br />
I was recovering and coming to terms with all of this and you take Ron from us. I was expecting the tears to come, to melt down and lose it the way I did when Nate passed and nothing happened. I realized that I was numb, it scared me. Wes was the next person on your list. True I wasn't very close to him at all, my only memories of him are the ones at my Great Grandma's house with him and his dog. I do remember that he would call my Great Grandma at least once a week to check in on her. I remember that he was planning to move out there to be closer to her but couldn't because of his health. I think the thing that upset me the most over losing Wes was that it hurt my Dad and his family. I hate seeing my Dad hurt and this effected him more than I think he's willing to admit. <br />
I'm sure you know why I'm writing this. I'm mad because you took Aunt Toni. Again, I know she's better off there but we're all hurting here. We were just put back in contact with Aunt Toni, why couldn't we have more time? My mom is having a hard time with this. I'm having a hard time with this! I know I said that this is just one more person to add to the list, it's just another death but I'm hurting. I'm tired of all this loss. It seems like I move on from one person just to lose another and I am telling you right now that I am done. If I lose one more person, I'm done. I just can't take it any more!!!!! I know you mean well and that some good will come from this, it's hard to see that but I know it's there. It doesn't mean I can't be angry at you for taking somebody from us, for hurting my family. It doesn't mean that I can't say I am done. I. Am. DONE! No more! I don't think I can take losing another person and no, that is not a challenge, that's a promise. I'm done. I am tired of all of this. I just need a break. I need to be reminded of your loving grace again. I want to be reminded that you still care. Right now all I'm feeling from you is pain. I think I've said enough. I do know that you care, just remind me, please because I can't take this anymore!Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-53051496115698407392013-11-01T21:57:00.002-07:002013-11-01T21:57:33.348-07:00Thoughts... I've been thinking today and I realized, I have lost a lot of people. The number of people I've lost is tremendous. I'm 18, I shouldn't have this much experience with death for crying out loud! Usually I can just file away all that loss into a cabinet deep, deep in my mind and forget about it all. I know that these people are gone, but I just choose not to acknowledge that fact. It's really easy to go on doing that and living life as though these people have never passed on. However the anniversary of that loss always makes it really rough for me to forget and in my experience that first anniversary is always the hardest one to over come. What I wouldn't give if I could just see all these people who are gone and hold them one more time, hear their laughter and smell their sweet scent. What I wouldn't pay to say "I love you" one last time.<br />
Let me fill you in really fast. Last week I received a call from my mom that my uncle was found unresponsive in his house the night before, they had taken him to the hospital where it was discovered that he had a lump the size of an orange in his lung. He was then kept on life support until my great grandma could get out there and say goodbye. This hit me so incredibly hard. Sure we weren't real close or anything but I had just received a card from him in May for graduation! He was supposed to be moving to Colorado to take care of my Great Grandma. He wasn't supposed to die! I kept waiting and waiting for that phone call that confirmed he was gone, a week passed and still not a word. Monday I received that dreaded call. I still haven't really wrapped my head around it all. I still can't believe that he's gone. I feel hollowed out inside. I feel drained and tired. I really wasn't expecting yet another death to come shake me to my core. But God has a plan for all of this... I just need to remember to stay strong and keep my faith in him that good will come out of this.<br />
A year ago today, I received some totally unexpected news. Phil and Melissa Wiebe had lost their baby boy. All of those around Phil and Melissa were floored. I know I have no room to talk about my grief and loss when there are those people like Phil and Melissa who have lost their child. There are those who have lost their parents. My loss is somewhat insignificant compared to all that. But here's the thing: we all suffer loss. And everybody takes their losses in a different way. Some people crumble to pieces while others grow stronger. Everybody is different. If there is one thing all this death has taught me it's this:<br />
<ul>
<li>Be the kind of person you'd want others to remember you by should you die tonight.</li>
<li>Love every one around you and cherish every memory because this could be your last moment with them.</li>
<li>Thank God each and every day that you are alive and well. Thank him for every breath you and your loved ones breathe because you never know when it could be that last breath.</li>
<li>If you wake up in the morning, be grateful for that... don't complain about the little things that don't go your way. You are alive and breathing... that in itself is reason to rejoice.</li>
<li>Hold those you love tight. Parents hug and kiss your children. Read them one last bed time story when they ask. Cherish every memory you are making: both the good and the bad.</li>
<li>Be happy with everything you are given. Remember there are those around you who would be thankful for what you are ungrateful for.</li>
</ul>
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-5387223028092629072013-09-15T13:35:00.000-07:002013-12-18T12:54:21.002-08:00Coming Clean<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-135702ce-232c-d68b-005d-131eaa448de8" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">This is a poem I wrote not too long ago. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Break Down</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">by</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rebecca Christensen</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Cry.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Cry out in grief, let your tears flow.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Allowing that release,</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">That pain you never show.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Cry in despair,</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">That pain that doesn’t cease</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">But no one seems to care.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Cry in misery, screaming.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scream.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scream in anger</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Punching your bed</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Everything starts to blur</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scream in fear</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">It’s getting to your head</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Those things you can’t un-hear</span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scream until your scream becomes a whimper.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Whimper.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Whimper on your bed</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Wiping away tears</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">You start to pretend.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Pretend.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Pretend you are okay.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Because you are strong,</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">You’ll live another day.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="color: black;">I think it is time I come clean about something...</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">Writing for me has always been my greatest outlet... hence why I keep this blog. Writing has been how I express myself, a way to put on page what I can't show on the outside. You see, in about May 2012 I started really struggling with depression. I'm not so sure why that is. Maybe because I had just lost my Great Grandma and was still struggling to cope with that loss... maybe because of the stress of Junior Year. Whatever the reason was doesn't really matter, what matters is that I was struggling so fiercely with a depression so intense I couldn't see the way out. I felt myself sinking farther and farther into this pit of despair. It was getting unbelievably hard to see that light at the end of the tunnel and to be honest there were some days when I didn't even want to get out of bed, where I just wanted to lay there and hope for an end to this misery. I stopped eating and only ate to appease my mom who I'm sure noticed something was up but never said anything. I stopped caring about my homework, my friends, pretty much everything. Every day I was just going through the motions. And here's the thing, I hid it from everyone even my closest friends. I didn't bother to tell my mom what was going on, I feared she wouldn't believe me... or even worse she would and I would get no privacy because she was afraid of losing me. I got up in the morning and put on a happy face and sent out that "I'm okay!!!" beacon for everybody to see. On the surface I was just fine but underneath I was screaming out for help. Every fiber of my being was screaming "somebody please help me! I'm not okay!" After a while I started telling my few friends who knew about the depression that I was okay, that the depression was gone and I was feeling better. And for a while I really was doing so much better.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">After a few months or so, I started sinking back into the darkness that was eating away at me. On the outside I was happy and in front of people nothing was wrong but there were some nights when I would cry myself to sleep. I can't even remember how many times I had melt downs like the one described in my poem. I was so desperate for someone to notice I wasn't okay but at the same time, I didn't want anybody to know that I was depressed. I didn't want to get dragged to the doctor and have them tell me that I was ill and give me medication that was supposed to make me feel better. It was because of this that I kept pushing forward. I was sending out so many signals and signs though. I was no longer happy and optimistic at work, instead I became grumpy and just outright miserable to work with. It was a battle to be nice and friendly towards the customers. Another sign was my school work. I used to love going to school and learning new things. I was so proud of my grades and anything below a B would have me worried. I just stopped caring about school, I'd find any reason to not go to class. And as for my grades... well all I cared about was that they were passing so I could graduate high school. It was the grades that caught my parents attention. Did they ask what was wrong? No. They just jumped down my throat to bring the grades up... now that's not to say that they weren't worried but were just putting a brave face on so as not to frighten me, maybe they were and I just didn't know. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;">I jumped into a relationship with a guy I know didn't respect me. He didn't care what I wanted, this relationship was all about him. My parents tried to warn me but I didn't listen. My friends and coworkers voiced their concern and I pushed it aside. I had hit my absolute low, I didn't think I deserved a boy who actually cared about me. This boy paid attention to me and made me feel like I was special but in the back of mind I knew it wasn't a good idea, that it was an unhealthy relationship that I need to get out of. When he broke up with me I was devastated. I cried for a full day until my dad told me to pull myself together and that a tool like him wasn't worth my tears. It was during that time that I started to realize how much I am truly loved. I had friends texting me asking me what was wrong after they had seen my Facebook status. I had coworkers who just held me all night when I finally snapped and starting crying, and those who tried to make me laugh. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"> It was then that I started to do a 180. I started to crawl out of my depression. It hasn't been an easy task. And part of it was that I was surrounding myself with people who were bringing me down, not building me up. Recently I've cut those people out of my life and am surrounding myself with positive people. I deleted everyone connected to my ex on Facebook (except for his sister cause she's awesome) so I am no longer tied to him. I opened my heart back up to God and asked him for help pulling me out of the pit that I was sinking back in to and he came through. For the first time since that depression hit the smile on my face isn't there for show... it's a real smile. For the first time in a long time, I wake up hopeful. I'm really truly happy. For the first time in the longest time that weight which has been crushing me making it hard to breathe has been lifted and I can breathe again. For once I'm not ashamed to admit that I have struggled with depression. And now I finally feel free from that depression... I finally feel like myself again, and what a wonderful feeling that is.</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span>Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-14917673069024166612013-09-13T13:15:00.004-07:002013-09-15T13:39:42.674-07:00Growing up...Growing up sucks. There I said it. I hate being a "grown up" I find myself struggling to make ends meet for the first time since I started working. Granted I've been doing well at saving my rent and getting by groceries to last me until next pay day but after all that I find myself being stretched for money. I hate this! I hate not having enough money to do things. And now here's the kicker... My car potentially needs a new battery or an alternator. I can't afford that! I have no idea what I'm going to do right now. I honestly can't handle the stress. I have no idea where I'm going to come up with the money and it's like what am I going to do? I know I just need to sit back and breathe but I just can't the weight of all this is crushing down on me. I really wish I had never moved out of the house. Yes, I was going insane living with my parents and was itching to get out. I'm not going to lie I love having the freedom to do whatever I want and not have to answer to anybody. At the same time, I hate the responsibility that comes with it. I hate not having money because I have rent payments to make and groceries to buy on top of a gas tank to fill. And thanks to life's little emergencies that pop up I no longer have a savings. So when my car decided that it doesn't want to start working I'm scrambling to figure out to afford this. I seriously just want to go back and curl up in my old bed at my parents house with a really good book. But then again God is good, everything will work itself out. I just need to take a deep breath and relax, just put it all in is hands. It's just so hard to do, it is definitely something for me to work on.<br />
<br />
**** UPDATE***<br />
The car is fine, turns out it was something to do with the rain. I picked up more hours at work too to cover any costs I need. It's amazing how things work out... I just need to remember that God is good and even when I feel like I need to worry I really don't because God is in control.<br />
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-17442519285025140592013-08-29T09:54:00.001-07:002014-01-13T14:31:27.666-08:0010 CommandmentsSo a few years ago this guy named Jeffery Dean came down and he talked to the Christian youth of St. George about dating. One of the things he suggested we do that I particularly liked was the idea of a list of "10 Commandments" for our future spouse. These are ten standards that should be met before that person is considered for a relationship. I liked it and created my own set of 10 Commandments... but I haven't really followed them. So I went back and revised a few of them and I thought I'd post them up on here kind of as a way for me to stay accountable to these 10 Commandments. This way those of you reading can help hold me accountable to the standards I am setting. Without further ado here are my 10 Commandments...<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">10 Commandments for my Future Spouse</span></div>
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<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He MUST have a relationship with God.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He should be patient... I mean come on he has to put up with me for the rest of his life.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He must be good with kids. Nothing makes a girl swoon more than a guy who is good with kids, period the end.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He has to be willing to listen. Even when it's just pointless stuff I'm rambling about.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He needs to get along with my best friend. I spend a lot of time with my best friend... they need to get along.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He needs to do well with English. Bad grammar and bad spelling just turn me off... and show me that he's probably not intelligent enough for me.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He must respect the performing arts. The performing arts are such a big part of who I am. I'm not saying he has to love them the way I do but he should respect them.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He must be able to make me laugh. I love it when the person I'm with can always make me laugh no matter what mood I'm in.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He should enjoy reading. As an avid reader myself it'd be nice to find someone with that quality as well.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;">He absolutely must love dogs. I want to have dogs when I get older and have kids... someone who doesn't like dogs is out of the question.</span></li>
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On a totally different note, I just found out that I will now be a leader not an assistant in High Tides two Sundays a month and am just a little worried. I signed up to be an assistant, not to lead. I don't know the first thing about being a leader!!!! At the same time I also know that Jake and Sarah wouldn't have given the okay for me to lead if they didn't think I could do it. Please pray for me that I do well and everything goes okay for me and the students :)</div>
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-464885500843842912013-08-22T22:45:00.001-07:002013-08-22T22:45:51.022-07:00Dear 16 Year Old MeDear 16 Year Old Me,<br />
You've finally done it! You're 16!!!! I know you're still struggling over losing Paul and Nolan, but that's okay to still be feeling this way. I know you're thinking life will just be awesome... you can date now, you're on Drama Council and Pine View is doing Fiddler on the Roof. You're also about to enter your hardest year of school. APUSH, Honors English AND College Classes??? Girl you are insane. I'd like to offer you some advice. First things first: relationships are over rated. I know you feel like you have to have a boyfriend now that you are finally of age but in all reality you don't. I know you're going to get boy crazy, just please remember that you never need a boy in your life to be happy. The second thing I have to tell you is learn to manage your time. You are so super involved with anything and everything right now... you need to manage your time and learn to prioritize or else be prepared to face the consequences (I promise you, you will not like the consequences). Third: cherish your friendships. I mean it, you have so many amazing people in your life right now. Cherish them! Especially Sarah because one day she will be gone and you won't have her there for you anymore. Fourth is don't be afraid to ask for help... again I say DON'T BE AFRAID TO ASK FOR HELP!!!!!!! You can't do everything and that is totally acceptable, believe it or not people will understand that you aren't so perfect after all. And the last thing is that you need to learn to stand up for yourself and what you believe in. If you don't like being in the college classes then say something! If you want to major in Theater do something about it! Don't let your parents talk you out of what you want.<br />
I'm writing this at the age of 18 and I can tell you that things don't work out how we had it all planned. You never do find that boyfriend at 16. You do get betrayed by those you thought you could trust... I took this and became resentful and bitter for the longest time. I hope and pray that you don't do this. Life is too short to be bitter. You will lose Gigi and that will shatter your world, what crushes you even more is that Master leaves Pine View. Senior year doesn't go as awesome as you'd like. Because you hid from your parents that you are on Band Council, you lose all your rights for the first semester. Really you should know by now you can't get away with anything like that. You do get those relationships you wanted at 16. By trying to be nice you break someone's heart... and what comes around goes around because you get your heart broken too by Austin Thompson. Austin really messes you up and you go back to being bitter. I just want you to know that you find that boy that makes you forget about all the negative things that Austin did. There's actually two boys... I'm stuck on that one. I know that I will end up hurting one of them and I don't want to. But back to you. All this stuff happens but you shouldn't let it make you angry or upset. All this stuff happens to help make you a better person. I am a better person now because of everything that will happen to you. If I could go back and change it I don't think I would. So I wish you good luck and I know that you'll do great!<br />
Love,<br />
18 year old meBecca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-54254043410975806102013-08-15T20:28:00.001-07:002013-08-15T20:28:47.287-07:00Mourning Okay let's get one thing very clear here: I have seen a lot of death... like A LOT of death within these past few years. I personally hate death and all that it brings... between losing my Uncle and my friend Nolan in the same week to losing my Great Grandma less than a year later I'd thought that I'd somehow grown immune to the pain that death brings... I was oh so very wrong. When little Nathaniel Wiebe was sent up to God's loving arms I lost it. I'm not sure why that was I'd never been particularly close to Nate, I don't even recall holding him. I think part of my devastation was that I am very fond of the Wiebe family. Because of Phil and Melissa my family is stronger than we ever would be had we not met them. Without Phil and Melissa my parents wouldn't be married and I probably wouldn't have a very good relationship with my mom. So I was crushed that something so heartbreaking could happen to such a good family. I remember crying in my room after the house was empty, this wasn't little cries either I cried the deep gut wrenching sobs that rub your throat raw... I cried until I couldn't cry any more. Then our church suffered another loss. We lost Ron Metcalf one of the most amazing people I have ever known... someone who I was indeed very close with. When he died I kept expecting for it to sink in that he was dead. I kept waiting to break down crying like I had for the Wiebes but the tears never came. Even while I was at his funeral watching Garon choke up as he talked about his dad and seeing Janie cry for the loss of her husband I still couldn't cry. It was almost as though I was numb to death and its sting.<div>
Once again our church family is suffering another loss: the loss of Mike Volpa. I went to his memorial service not expecting to feel anything other than sorrow for his family. But I couldn't help myself but to cry and I felt so selfish too. Who am I to cry at the funeral of somebody I barely knew but the occasional "Hi how are you?" at church??? Who am I to fall to pieces while the rest of his family stands strong for Kelly, Mike's daughter who was falling apart? Who am I to do that? Why am I crying? Then I realized I wasn't just mourning for Mike and the loss his family suffered. I was mourning a lot of things. I was crying for Ron Metcalf and for my Great Grandma, I was crying for myself. </div>
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I was mourning the loss of the girl I used to be. I was crying for the girl who stupidly let her guard down for a boy she felt she loved and that he loved her back. A boy she was willing to become a military wife for because she was that strongly "in love" with him. A boy who in the end took advantage of her. Who made her feel used and dirty because she broke the ultimate promise and gave away too much of her self. I cry now for the innocence lost and for the part of me that I will never get back. In the end it was a good thing he ended the relationship when he did and looking back I realize now that it was not a healthy relationship at all... he had put up so many red flags and warning signs that I ignored because I really wanted it to work out with him. I sit here and I weep for the happy girl I was not even three months ago who has now been replaced by someone bitter and hollow. But in the end this is a lesson learned and now hopefully I can help others avoid making the same mistake that I did. I am so thankful that God put me into High Tides. That he gave me a reason to keep going to church and to read my bible and I know that in time with his help I will be healed and hopefully back to the happy person I was before I made all my mistakes. Until then I will stay strong and keep my head up because bad things do happen but you can take that and be miserable and let it drag you down or you can take it and say "yeah that sucked but you know what everything happens for a reason and I'm going to make the most of it." One of my coworkers was telling me that in the end I was the one who came out the better person in this breakup and that he's never seen any other girls handle the situation as well as I did. I know that I have God to thank for that, without his help and his strength I'd probably still be curled up in my bed crying over that stupid boy and not focusing on what lies ahead.</div>
Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052764633766859924.post-69205428082022806132013-07-22T01:15:00.002-07:002013-07-22T01:15:42.561-07:00Moving On So I leave for my very last summer camp here in a few hours (yes, I'm still awake at two in the morning and I have to wake up and get ready to leave around eight or so) and I have so many emotions running through my system right now. I'm so excited to see what this year will bring. This is the first time our church will be staying at the Big Rock Candy Mountain Resort (yes, that is its real name) so I'm excited to see what they have to offer. Also the pastor that Jake hired to come preach is amazing. He taught our lessons last year and I loved it, I really felt myself growing closer to God. I'm also very excited for worship... I hear it should be pretty awesome and for me I love to worship God best through music (last year I even got to join the worship team up at camp and it was such an awesome experience). The Draper campus is coming down to camp with us and that should be fun too, last time we camped together was way fun and the laughs were endless. I am also so sad that I will have to let all of this go. After camp is over I will officially be graduating from the youth group.<br />
This youth group has been a part of my life for about the past five or six years. I joined way back in 2007, when I was going into seventh grade. I have seen this youth group grow and transition its way from UTX (Under the Cross) to SURF (Students United in Redeeming Faith) I have seen several leaders throughout this group too. First was Cyndi and Orie who were phenomenal leaders and still people I look up to. Cyndi and Orie stepped down and Dallas and Greta stepped up to the plate. This was the time our church building was expanding and we were building the youth room above Big Springs and we were excited for a bigger space. We got our room and things were going smoothly... we even had our very first camp WWW (Walking Wisely Weekend) and we had started up the mid-week Bible study. Then something happened and Dallas and Greta had to step down and Jake took over. Thanks to Jake this youth group has turned into something amazing. He transformed the youth group at SMCC. I am so thankful for Jake and Marisa. The two of them have been such an amazing impact in my life these past few years as high school was winding down and college growing closer and closer. I honestly have no idea where I would be without them. I certainly wouldn't be volunteering to help with the High Tides (5-8 grade) at church.<br />
As the end came near I thought about approaching Jake about becoming an intern for the youth group to one day become a youth leader myself. I still wasn't sure if that's what I really wanted though or if it was just a way for me to still be plugged into the youth group. Eventually I realized that because I wasn't super involved with the group once I started working maybe asking to be an intern was too outrageous and I should wait and see if that's something I'd still want to do in a year or so. I was still feeling like I needed to get involved with something... I just didn't know what. Then David approached me one Sunday and asked if I would be interested in helping out with High Tides. I accepted the offer. This is what I've been waiting for! I'll be working with an age group that I relate to (for some reason I connect better with younger teenage girls) and I'll be helping to guide them to Jesus. I only hope that I can help impact their lives the way Jake and Marisa have impacted mine.Becca Christensenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16139537006457801541noreply@blogger.com1