I don’t want to be a poet,

Writing out my dreams.

I don’t want to be an artist,

Putting images to fantasy.

I don’t want to be a blogger,

Typing out relationships.

I don’t want to be a dancer,

Moving wild and free.

I don’t want to be a singer,

Shouting out a story.

I don’t want to be

Crippled by a dream.

I want to be a daughter,

Making my parents proud.

I want to be a sister,

Giving my siblings smiles.

I want to be a friend,

Giggling through the night.

I want to be an encouragement,

Picking others up.

I want to be a Christian,

Living in the light.

I want to be a human,

Living vibrantly.

Creating magic

In the world around me.

I don’t want to miss a moment,

Focusing on only one thing.

I don’t want to be alone

In my world of beauty.

I want to write.

I want to draw.

I want to blog.

I want to dance.

I want to sing.

I want to have fun.

I want to smile.

I want to talk.

I want to laugh.

I want to help.

I won’t be

Crippled by a dream.

I will be a human.

I will write, draw, blog, dance, and sing.

I will have fun, smile, talk, laugh, and help.

I will live vibrantly.

     We all have those weird things we said as kids, right? I know I could fill an entire book with my funny childhood quotes. One thing I did every night when my family prayed before bed was thank God for each of us in turn and then say, “Don’t fowget to love youwsewf!” when I got to me. That is now a family joke, but the three year old goofball that was me actually had a point.

     My cute younger self probably drew you in, but now that you know my topic, some of you are probably getting bored. Yes, the love yourself idea may seem a bit overused, unless I’m the only one who gets the suggested posts on Instagram about how “you are enough.” Honestly, I used to think self love was just an overrated trend. Now, however, I feel it’s important to really understand the movement, what it means, and how it can go too far.

     I never really knew anything about self love until I started doing yoga with my mom to relieve the stress of school and living 

in a house with six kids. We followed Yoga With Adrian on YouTube and she talked a lot about making time for yourself and accepting your body as it is while finding ways to improve that feel good. In one video she said, “Self love; an ongoing regular practice, not something we tap into when we’re down and out, or when we’re in that kind of fight or flight mode, but rather a regular practice.” I took in some of what she said and I thought it made a lot of sense, but to be completely honest, I really just liked doing the poses. I definitely didn’t make self love a regular practice, at any rate.

     A few months ago, however, my sister and I started listening to the popular k-pop group, BTS. The band is big on self love, and their songs are what finally helped me get it. This translation from one of their songs, “Answer: Love Myself”, really caught my attention: “Loving myself might be harder

Than loving someone else

Let’s admit it

The standards I made are more strict for myself

...

Now let’s forgive ourselves

Our lives are long, trust yourself when in a maze.”

     When you think of yourself, what is the first word that comes to your mind? A few people might respond to this question with “unique” or “creative” or “funny”, but a lot might say “ugly” or “fat” or “stupid”. Now, how would you answer this question about your best friend? If you’re being totally honest, some of you will think of outward flaws first, but, chances are, you’ll quickly slap yourself and focus instead on said friend’s good qualities like kindness or love. What exactly is the difference between you and your best friend that your bad qualities are worse than theirs? Why is the scale different when it’s you? To me, self love is about looking at yourself the way you would look at anybody else because, the fact is, we’re all humans.

     Some people might argue that they really don’t have anything to love about themselves. That is untrue. I believe that we were all created by God, who knows what He is doing. To quote Genesis 1:27, “So God created human beings in His own image. In the image of God He created them. Male and female He created them.” He made you just the way He wants you. Just like there are flaws in any human, every one of us has something worth loving, too. You just have to try a little. Work to find something about yourself to love and then grow that.

      In a speech to the United Nations, RM of BTS said this: “Maybe I made a mistake yesterday, but yesterday’s me is still me. I am who I am today, with all my faults. Tomorrow I might be a tiny bit wiser, and that’s me, too. These faults and mistakes are what I am, making up the brightest stars in the constellation of my life. I have come to love myself for who I was, who I am, and who I hope to become.”

     Other people may avoid self love because they don’t want to become, well, selfish. This is actually a legitimate concern for some. Self love can go too far. We can start seeing ourselves as perfect and stop trying to improve. It’s important to remember that you are sinful and imperfect, but so is everyone else. It’s about what we focus on, and how we handle ourselves with the flaws. Some people might feel entitled. You don’t deserve the entire world, you deserve what you can get for yourself. Hard work is crucial. Finally, you could become self centered and love yourself more than you love anyone else. This is neither healthy nor kind. The key is balance. Know who you are and who everyone else is. We are all humans. We all have good qualities and bad ones. Treat yourself the way you would treat any other human, no better and no worse.

     Self love can be hard and confusing, but it’s worth the effort. I was inspired by the music made by seven people who are all the way across the world from me, so I hope you can be inspired by me, a random teenage girl behind this random post. If nothing else, I hope this can at least be to you what the soothing voice between downward dogs was to me: a start. Remember to look at yourself in the right light, and keep making more things to love.

When I'm having of a bad day,

I just put you on replay,

And soon I'm ok.

The music gets me inspired. 

I want to make worlds,

Just to go higher. 

Even if I'm tired,

I'm full of energy 

And so I'm ready

To go be me. 

I want to hear your song all night.

School starts going extra slow.

I spend twenty minutes on a question I know.

The music is the only thing on my mind.

It's all confusing;

I still feel fueled,

But so ill-timed.

School lasts all day long

And my night is burned on the song.

I have nothing to do with the ideas, you see,

I’ve run out of time to be me.

This is like a drug. 

It's like a medicine,

But I'm addicted.

It helps me, 

Heals me,

But too much only gets me hurt. 

Now I'm sick and burned.

"What did I do?"

I need to balance on this narrow tightrope. 

You inspire me to take the best of life, 

Make the best in life, 

So I just need to stop,

Focus,

Hit reset,

And full speed ahead. 

You're my fuel

As long as I'm careful

So you don't become my engine fire.

As long as I don’t start a fire,

You can only bring me higher.

From the moment she woke up, Abigail knew that this was not going to be an ordinary day. Then again, was any day ever ordinary? She allowed herself a few more minutes to soak in the warmth of her patterned pink comforter before opening one eye, then the other. She smelled the aroma of lavender that spilled out of the diffuser. She liked how the scent matched the purple curtains. The window shade was closed above the air conditioner and the colorful fairy lights surrounding it were not plugged in, but sunlight still peaked through to light up the room and dance on the off-white walls. The dresser along the right wall held Abigail’s art supplies and a large stack of books on top of it. On that same wall hung all of Abigail’s drawings and in that corner her dolls played. The other side of the room had a tall dresser with a backpack, a camera, and a guitar belonging to Abigail’s sister, who was waking up in the top bunk. Her dance mirror, framed in hundreds of photos, colored the wall and a giant stuffed sloth sat next to it.

Abigail rolled over and took her Bible off of her bedside shelf. She dutifully read a chapter of Luke, underlining several important verses. 

____________________


She mentally went through her list of things to do to get ready for the day as she picked out a floral dress and pink capris to wear. Several whiny voices drifted through the door crack from the living room as she dressed. 

Oh, did you think this was the story of a perfect girl with a perfect life? Not quite. This is the story of Abby Rater and her crazy but wonderful family. More importantly, this is the story of God’s way of working in their lives. 

____________________


As Abby smoothed a brush through her tangled bedhead, she looked over at her sister’s perfect hair. It was dark at the top where the dye had grown out, but everywhere else were waves of a lighter, almost golden, brown. Abby thought bangs looked awful on most people, but Kennedy could make them work. In fact, she could make anything work; everything about her looked perfect.She could be a model if she wanted to. Now look at the contrast between this and Abby’s frizzy mess, which she was now pulling into two tight braids.

Kennedy was bending to kiss Patches, who was napping in her usual spot on Abby’s bed. Kennedy loved cats, sometimes too much, according to all of the scratches on her hands. Macey was a timid little angel. She gave a friendly ‘Brrrroew!’ of greeting whenever she entered a room and she let anyone in the family do anything they wanted to her without so much as swattimg at them. She got scared of new people, though and hid well when visitors came.

Lets just say that Patches had more spunk. Abby liked that Patches had personality, and it likely added to her own bond with the cat. Since the day Patches was found, Abby had been her favorite. Patches made Abby’s bed her own, always there for comfort or cuddle. In return, Abby was often petting and cuddling to show her love. She was, however, careful not to smother like a certain older sister.

__________________


Kennedy threw on a hoodie and saved her extensive outfit styling for after breakfast as she turned on her phone, Abby’s virtual enemy. Kennedy was always staring at that screen texting friends, playing Roblox, watching YouTube, and who knew what else. The one and only good thing about Kennedy’s phone was music. Kennedy seemed to be full of music. She played guitar at church and danced to K-pop songs at home. Abby didn’t understand K-pop whatsoever (what’s the point of music if you can’t understand the words?) and she didn’t like the tunes much, either, but she knew that Kennedy liked it a lot so ultimately (though she would never say so out loud) Abby was glad that her sister had that. After all, her older sister was also her best friend and, when she put the phone down, Kennedy made a great one. The girls did practically everything together and there was nobody Abby liked better to laugh with than Kennedy.

____________________


In the living room ten minutes later, Abby found her four younger siblings. Mason, Maddy, and Benjamin were all watching a YouTube video of someone playing video games on the TV. They may have gotten out of bed earlier than she had, but they hadn’t gotten dressed yet and Abby knew that they hadn’t moved from the couch much.

Judging by the mess of toys, pillows, books, and baby wipes in the room, Gracie had been busy. She sat on the sill of the big triple window holding a bag of chips as big as herself. A smile showed in her dimpled cheeks and scrunched up nose. The morning sunlight came through the window and created a golden halo to surround Gracie’s curls.

“Are we still walking Tucker later?” Abby asked Mason as she shoved pillows and cracker wrappers aside to set a basket of clean laundry down on the long sectional couch. 

“Sure,” Mason said happily. He held out his fist for their special handshake. 

Tucker was the newest addition to the family, a seven month old hound from the ANNA Shelter. He wasn’t trained at all yet and had a tendency to annoy the rest of the family, but he really was sweet and loving despite it all. Abby and Mason tried to walk him every day to get him out of the house and teach him to behave.

Annie then trotted into the room with her ears perked up. Her tongue hung out of her mouth in what looked like a smile. “Yes, we’ll bring you, too, Annie,” Abby said, bending down to pet their well behaved dog. 

“Aww, you’re such a good girl,” Mason cooed, giving Annie one of his signature hugs. 

“Kitty kitty kitty!” Gracie squealed as she ran to the dog on her chubby legs.

“Benjamin, want to play Mario stuffed animals in our room?” Maddy was asking.

“Shuw,” Benjamin consented and they scurried off, Maddy humming a tune as she made it up. Maddy was like Kennedy with her love of music, but in several ways she was much more like Abby. She was just as fun and quirky, she said some surprisingly thoughtful things, and somehow they just seemed to come from the same dreamland.

Like Kennedy and Abby, Maddy and Benjamin did nearly everything together and were constantly laughing hysterically about nothing. They were “best buds”. Maddy was the sassy boss and Benjamin the quiet follower. He was very quiet when he wasn’t crying. He did cry somewhat often, but that was the price of his sweet, sensitive heart. It was well worth it.

Abby was folding (and wishing she could fit into) Maddy’s unicorn shirt when Mom and Dad came in from the back deck. Dad was discussing a trucking job that he had applied for. This job had better hours than he was currently working at FedEx so he could provide for the family and have time to see them, which was what he cared about most in life. Mom was listening to him -- she was great at listening -- while putting bread in the toaster, holding Tucker on his leash, and helping Abby with the laundry. It may have been summer vacation and a Saturday no less, but the parents were still working hard and making it look easy.

“I’m sorry, do you need help with anything?” Dad asked Mom as she brought a stack of plates to the table.

“I think I’ve got it,” Mom said with a certain brightness in her tone that matched her smile. 

“Let me help you, woman!” Dad exclaimed loudly in his pretend old man voice. The kids all giggled and Dad continued. “Back in my day you accepted some darned help!” The children continued to laugh as they gathered around the scuffed, cluttered, happy kitchen table and Dad continued to tease in his funny voice. 

____________________


After breakfast Abby grabbed one of her many notebooks and dashed outside. She climbed up her favorite tree and fondly looked around her. The mossy yard was full of trees, a trampoline, a kitty pool, and several other toys. The paint was still peeling on the deck and the house was far from a mansion but it was cozy and it was home. What Abby loved most about her home city, Harborcreek, was that no matter which way she looked, if she strained her eyes far enough, they would eventually fall on woods. She didn’t have to strain her eyes much to the left, for there was her own little wood that stepped into the yard. 

The soft hum of voices 

Sends me into daydreams.

Every note of the encouraging message

Makes my heart sing along. 

A friend's sparkling smile 

Prompts me to burst. 

Her funny texts

Are like candy in my mouth.

A book is a portal to another world

That I joyously bring back to my own.

Each character is so real,

It's like they're all my friends.

Swirls of color make someone's dreams

And I can't tear my eyes from the canvas.

The sheer beauty 

Takes my breath away.

Life is amazing

And incredibly inspiring.

I feel buoyant and beautiful

Taking it all in. 

I itch to be in action;

My fingers vibrate for the nearest pencil.

Ideas are being stirred.

I can feel it fizzing up inside of me. 

The yearning is too much 

When I see the world outside.

Every frosted branch,

All of the clear water,

It calls me.

I pour out all of my feelings.

With the brushes on my desk.

Intense inspiration flows from my fingertips

And a smile is always on my lips.

I dream and I create.

Maybe someday

I’ll inspire someone else

And the cycle will keep on rolling

And coloring the world. 

Cheeks red as cherries

Snow so white and pure

See the Christmas fairies

You'll be smiling for sure


They fly all around town

Singing far off key 

Don't tell them to quiet down 

I hope they'll come and visit me

They deck every haul

Every wreath they hang

They're having a jolly ball 

As holiday songs are sang


Their lights are twinkling

Before every eye

The warm glow sets us dreaming

Deep into the night sky

“That's everything you'll need, and the instructions are right here. Tell me if you need anything, Ok," Dad said. Amy was looking for a hobby and Dad was a builder. Maybe building could be Amy's hobby. He wanted Amy to  try building by herself to see if she was really good at it.


     Amy picked up the instruction packet. It said "How to Build a Swing: an easy step-by-step project for kids," on the front in big letters.


     Amy nailed together all the parts and tied the ropes after Dad drilled the holes. Amy hung the swing while Dad held the ladder. Now it was time to test it out.


    Amy felt the wind in her hair and the way it gently resisted her legs as she kicked back for more speed. She felt amazing. The swing seemed to be working perfectly, or maybe not.

   Suddenly Amy was flying farther, much farther, than she should have been. She was still sitting on the seat of the swing. . . but the ropes had come untied at the highest point! Amy braced herself for the impact. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation of the fall, and then something changed.


    Amy was still swinging. She was as high as when she was about to fall, but she came gently back down, and up again, and down. As the swing slowed to a stop, Amy looked at her surroundings. The swing looked very different; the seat, now carved and twisted, hung from the tree on two long, deep green vines. Leaves and bright pink flowers of all sizes grew on them. Nearby Amy saw a huge deer gracefully bend down to take a drink in the lake, which sparkled in the pale sunshine. All was peaceful. Amy wasn't the least bit afraid of the large animal. The ground was all mossy hills and valleys. Trees were growing all around and big butterflies were everywhere.


    ''Excuse me, Mr. Deer, could you please come over here and tell me what in the world is going on?'' Amy asked. The child knew that animals do not normally talk, but she asked the question and was not at all surprised when the deer answered.


     ''I cannot come over, I am sorry to say. Deer are not allowed in the fairy kingdom, we may accidentally hurt someone. It is a shame, though, I've always wanted to try some of the fairies' cake,'' he said.

''Fairies? Am I a fairy now? Is that why you look so big?'' Amy wondered.

 ''Certainly,  you came here to find a hobby and even though you don't have wings, there are many fairies who will help you as if you are one,'' the deer explained. Amy was amazed.


    So the fairies helped Amy find a hobby. At first it didn't go well.

    ''I'm sorry I spilled your paint, Andy, I'll help you clean it up,'' Amy apologized to the art fairy.

Andy laughed and her smile sparkled just as much as her magical wings. "At least you got just the purple shade I needed, but it shouldn't be in the sky! Don't worry, I can fix it," she said. They were painting in a meadow full of flowers in all shades of purple.


    ''Maybe cleaning is your hobby, you could balance out your clumsiness,'' Cassie, the craft fairy, joked after Amy made another mess. The shelves lining the craft room were covered in pink slime and even Cassie's bouncy curls had glue in them.


    ''Wow, am I bad at singing, but at least I don't have to clean anything up this time, unless I shattered one of those big windows,'' Amy laughed to Mira, the music fairy.

"You didn't. Don't worry, I know you'll find your hobby soon," Mira said. Her big blue eyes told the truth.


    Finally, Amy tried baking with a fairy named Brittany. ''OK, let's make fairy cake,'' Brittany said, ''It's sweeter than you are!'' When Brittany smiled, dimples appeared on her chocolate-colored cheeks. The tidy kitchen had everything imaginable to use for baking organized nicely. Three flower spills and a dozen broken eggs later, it wasn't looking nearly as neat.

''I'm sorry I made such a mess, I was distracted by an idea: why don't just a few fairies fly treats over to the animals. I'm sure the animals won't accidentally hurt them if there's only a few,'' Amy explained.

''What a great idea!'' Brittany said. ''Let's get started right away!''


     Soon the whole kingdom was abuzz with plans for the animals. A party was planned so that all the fairies could get together to cook food big enough.


     ''I see you've found your hobby, little one,'' said Opal, an elderly fairy whose wrinkled face was framed in long snow white hair.

''What do you mean?''

"Well, you enjoy helping animals, and you're wonderful at it,'' Opal explained, ''It's not just animals either, look how excited everyone is because of you. A real talent you have.'' Suddenly Amy understood. 

''Oh thank you! You all helped me find my hobby, and it even helps others!'' she cried.


     ''In Mark 9:35, Jesus says, 'Whoever wants to be first must take last place and be the servant of everyone else.' That means that if you are humble and make it your ability, or hobby, to serve others, you will become great,'' Opal said.

Amy beamed as she surveyed the scene around her. "It works fast," she said, "This is already pretty great!"

Gail Rowey skipped happily through the door of her new house. “How was the first day of your new school?” her Mom asked. They had lived in Waterford for over a month now but they moved in late June so Gail hadn't gone to her new school until today. 

“It was great!" she answered, "I made friends with the principal's daughter Lucy and she talked to him about having a charity festival for the homeless and he agreed!” Gail squealed. "There's gonna be games and snacks and races and singing! Mom, I'm doing a solo!"

“That's great Gail,” her Mom said. 

“I'm going to sew shirts and Lucy is going do graffiti on them,” she went on. 

"Maybe I'll sell pies," her Mom said. Two weeks later, the day of the festival, Gail was jumping around backstage looking over the song she was going to sing. 

“Abigail Rowey, singing a song she wrote called ‘I Look Around,’” the announcer announced. Gail took a deep breath, straightened her purple headband, and walked on stage. Gail looked out into the crowd, then for what seemed like hours she froze. Gail tried to remember her song but she couldn't, she 

was so nervous she couldn’t even walk off the stage. She looked at the crowd again, then she saw Lucy holding up a sign that said “Help the Homeless” in bold letters. She had to sing to help the homeless. Gail took a deep breath, then the whole song came flowing out. Before she knew it Gail sang the whole song and everyone was clapping wildly. 

"Thank you!" Gail bowed and then said, "Any donations go in the bucket, if you have some money put it in there and help the homeless!"


When Gail got to school on Monday Lucy ran up to her immediately. "Did you hear the good news?!" she asked excitedly. 

“No,” Gail replied, “What?” 

They collected more than a million dollars for the homeless!" Lucy exclaimed, grabbing Gail’s hands and twirling her around. Gail smiled, now somebody else had a warm house and plenty of food to eat, and she had helped make it happen.