The Struggle is Real: Making Friends is Hard to Do

The summer of my sophomore year in college my life completely fell apart. In effort to find my identity in all the things I did rather than who I was as a daughter loved by God, I landed myself in the hospital after a seven-year spiral of self-destruction. It never occurred to me that I had any problems prior to those months. I had everything going for me: popular boyfriend, top status in my sorority, leader in a major church plant in my college saturated town, and living in a perfectly decorated home with my BFF’s. But, all of those people I was so proud to have surrounding me, not one of them knew the bondage I was in. That was not because they were oblivious; I never let anyone get very close to me. At least not close enough to see my flaws or pain.

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Pinterest-Perfect Pressure

I had caught it. The perfect moment between brothers captured on a smart screen. Perfect simultaneous smiles (which is a miracle in itself). Perfect peace between brothers. Perfect giggles. Perfect boyish wild-at-heart-ness. It felt like a victory Jordan-altar-stone after 6 months of wandering the wilderness of no sleep, sibling jealousy, and more sibling jealousy. I thought, "This moment has to be celebrated and documented. This.... is going on the instagrams."

Thirty seconds later...

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