Sometimes, you are sad

When I was younger, I was always the bubbly, smiling girl who let things roll off her back like it wasn't a big deal (even though those things were sometimes a really big deal).  Then... well, life happen.  I am not sure if I could place my finger on an exact moment or situation where I grew biter or stopped being full of "sunshine and cheer", but it just did.  I stopped wearing a mask and pretending all was well.

Recently I have been feeling pretty darn guilty for not not being little miss sunshine all the time. I think a lot of that has to do with becoming a wife.  Heck, I am married now shouldn't that solve all my problems?!?!? Oh, right.  I am the one that has to choose to be happy.  At least, that is what I keep telling myself.  

After crying in the shower this evening (for the third time this week but who's counting?), I came to this simple, yet profound realization (at least for me): it's okay to be sad. It's okay to be disappointed.  However, you can't let that define you.  

I have had a particularly rough week. I am sure that my raging hormones didn't really help.  Every time that I cried, or got frustrated with something or someone, I would feel guilty for it.  I called a good friend of mine to vent about how "wrong" I was for feeling this way. (and felt guilty for subjecting her to my woes).  You know what she said to me?  "it's not so much wrong.  those are your feelings"  That's when it all clicked! (thank you Lord for wise friends!)  God gave you emotions for a reason and there is nothing wrong with them.  It's what you choose to do with that makes the difference.  

So for now, I will be sad, because I have things to be sad about.  But I won't sit here in self pity forever, I won't let the sadness define who I am.  I am sad that I lost a friend, but I won't allow myself to become "the friendless one".  I am sad that my hair is thinning rapidly because of my medication that I am on because of two blood clots they found in my lung two days after our wedding.  But I refuse to become "the sick, balding bride".  I am sad that we live in an apartment that is less than 400 square feet.  But I am thankful that Dean and I have our own place and don't have to spend the first year of marriage in his parents basement.  

My circumstance will not define who I am, my reaction to them will.