Girl with a Blog

Well, I guess I should start this thing off by introducing myself. 

For all intents and purposes, my name is “Meredith”. (Yes... I chose that name because I am an avid Grey’s Anatomy fan)

So I guess I’ll begin by saying that I am a blogger with a purpose. I am a 21 year old girl, living in a small town, trying to use my blog as a way express my explosive feelings about my everyday struggles associated with  work, family, friends, and relationships. I am a ticking time bomb and I’m hoping to slow down the clock. Not only do I want to get my story out, I also want to find others who relate to my story so that together we might make a difference. 

Living in this small town, growing up with 5 siblings, has been anything but easy. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone talks about everyone. I was what one might call the “oops” of the family.. My mom was literally 40 when she found out that I was coming into this world. **sorry guys** I’ve grown up in that conservative, Christian, white family that everyone in the media talks about being close-minded and judgmental. We went to church twice a week. We didn’t use cuss words. We pretended like the stuff on the nightly news would never happen in America. Yep that was us to a “t”.

Growing up, I knew that they treated me differently than the other kids in our family. I had to endure the torture of 3 different Christian schools, while all of my siblings were put straight into public school. My siblings seemed to resent me growing up. I was the new kid in town who got everything they didn’t... The problem was that I actually didn’t want any of it. I wanted for a C on my test to be acceptable because that was the best that I could do. I wanted to go to a regular school where I wasn’t constantly bullied and didn’t have to explain to all of my friends why I have “Bible class” as part of my school schedule. I didn’t want my mom to crack jokes when I made a comment about being pregnant because she knew that there absolutely no way. I wanted her to worry because she had given me enough space to be my own person. I was the girl in youth group at the hometown festival who had to be chaperoned while the other kids got to walk with their friends... Why? because one of my sisters got drunk at that festival five years prior to this event. One day I realized exactly what part I played in my family... 

I WAS THE RE-DO CHILD. My siblings had the chance to live and create their own identity. I was given my identity and strict rules to accompany it. I was the kid who was going to make my parents proud and would not make the same mistakes any of my siblings made. I would be the “exception”. 

The responsibility of this job was overwhelming throughout my entire life, but not as noticeable as when I entered my college years. College comes with  too many questions... Where do you see yourself in 4 years? What do you want to be? Wanna join this small group? Wanna hit up this party? Who are you going to be? Woahhhhhhhh.... SLOW THE HECK DOWN.  My parents are supposed to know these answers right? I don’t know what to do. Who am I? What am I doing here? When can I leave?

When I got to college, I realized that I had no idea how to be my own person. College is supposed to be where you find yourself right? Well... let’s just say I’m still looking. Independence is harder than it looks when you’ve been bottle-fed bull shit about how life is suppose to work your entire life. 

I’ve got to find out what my likes are.. as long as they don’t offend my parents.

I’ve got to choose my degree.. as long as my parents think i’ll make enough money and am capable of achieving it. 

I’ve got to keep myself grounded in church.. as long as it’s one of eastern Tennessee’s finest Southern Baptist churches.. 

I need to make new friends and balance my social life, but I can’t take a sip of alcohol because God forbid I turn into one of my sisters. 

-Let’s just say, I did a lot of disappointing the past 5 years. (Yep, 5 because believe it or not... I’m a little indecisive)-

I changed my major 4 times... I tried to quite school more times that I can count on my fingers and toes. I quite my small group at that sweet little southern church a week after it began. I made it a couple of weeks into my freshman year before I tasted alcohol for the first time. 

BUT those facts weren’t all failures to me. 

I met some of my most amazing friends because of the different majors that I tried. I have some of the greatest memories because of a few nights that I drank just a little too much. I joined a non-denominational church that taught me more about God and my relationship with him, than I had learned in my 17 years of private school and youth group. My parents don’t like my new church. They still like to pretend that none of their kids drink alcohol. They think my degree will never get me anywhere... AND you know what? I’m okay with all of that.  I found my passion for helping people. I found that love matters more than what your church sign says. I learned that when I get nervous around a guy I like, I tend to get a little tipsy to cover-up the extensiveness of my awkwardness. I’ve learned I’m fucking hilarious and people know it. I find so much joy in sharing laughter. I learned curse words aren’t necessarily applauded or lady-like, but they also aren’t going to send me to hell. I found that the things who make people different, make them beautiful and interesting. In my 5 years of college, I found the single most important thing in this life... I FOUND ME. 

My story will continue to unfold, but until then BE BOLD AND CHOOSE JOY