formerly known as having it all together. 

I’m Sam. If you’re reading this, you most likely know me. 

I’m going to share a lot of info here most likely, and while I’m not ashamed, there’s a lot of mistakes I intend to cover that I don’t want to sound proud of either. I hope that doesn’t inhibit our friendship here. 

A few years ago now, a dear friend of mine told me that she felt like I had it all together, that I had my life figured out. I coped well with things, I was strong, I was level-headed, I made “right” choices, I behaved like an adult.

People counted on me. I had a husband and a little girl, I was on my church’s worship team, I volunteered for the youth group and children’s ministries. I had my own photography business, ministry, blog, full time job, and a dog. I was a part of a great ladies bible study and read all the books on marriage and family I could get my hands on. I planned my own wedding for 160 guests nearly single-handed, making literally everything myself. I added another child to my family and left work to raise my children. I packed up my home and moved it three times in four months. I battled and overcame depression, OCD, PPD, and who even knows how many anxiety attacks. I handled everything. I did everything.

Until I didn’t. 

Just about seven months ago, something happened that revealed all of the cracks in my thought-to-be solid foundation: I met a man. I met a man that I fell in love with that wasn’t my husband. And I dove in head first. All of the marital problems I was hiding were thrust to the front of the stage, every flaw and insecurity I ever had was put on display, and I retreated. My humanity and sinfulness was completely exposed.
So now I live in this weird paradox of a life where I’m growing happily in one relationship while another dissolves in hostility. I have voids where friendships used to be and strained relationships in others, but I’ve also seen other relationships deepen and strengthen in ways only heartbreak and tragedy can bond people.

I’ve been so many things in the past decade or so: I’ve been a good girl, a pregnant teen, a college drop out, a mistress (twice), a single mom, a Christian (I mean, I hope I still am), a wife, a stay-at-home mom, an adulterer, and really… I don’t know what else to say other than that I am completely and utterly imperfect.

The long of the short of it is that I don’t have it all together.  

There’s all kinds of drama and bull shit in my life and whether or not any of it or all of it is my fault, I know I’m not the only one out there with a little bit of a complicated life. I’m not the only one out there who’s made and is making a few mistakes in the name of finding happiness and ultimately, myself.

Writing is my therapy, but knowing I’m not alone is my comfort. So, hopefully, that’s what this post will bring someone out there: comfort. If you’re a little messed up and you’ve done a few crazy or dumb things, I’m with you.

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