The Temple Celebration

I have my own temple.

I can see it from the top floor of my house. It's a minuscule speck, but I can see it nonetheless.

I jumped up and down when I heard its announcement in the LDS General Conference of April 2008. I was only 10 years old then.

I watched the groundbreaking ceremony two years later and was in awe at the fact that they would somehow turn that empty field of weeds and cacti and dry dirt into a place fit for the Lord.

I waited for years as I watched it grow from the ground up. They buried huge power lines so they wouldn't obstruct the view of the temple. They shipped in stone from Jerusalem for the floors and walls. For a year, they parked a little portable classroom in the middle of the dirt construction site for the hordes of people who wanted to know what on earth this massive building was for and why it was being built.

When one of the stone walls was deemed unusable due to a small imperfection, the missionaries of the area broke it up into hundreds of pieces and gave them to visitors. I have my own little chunk of the temple sitting in my room right now.

I watched from our car window as the statue of Angel Moroni was finally placed on top.

During the open house, hundreds of thousands of people flooded to the temple to tour it and see this mysterious building for the first time. I helped many nights in putting the little white shoe coverings on strangers' feet for hours and hours until nightfall so that they could have their turn to walk through the temple.

I was lucky enough to tour the temple four times during the open house period; I went once with my entire family and some business friends we had invited, once with just my mom, and twice all by myself. 

I can hardly find adequate words to describe how I can feel inside that building. When I walk in, I have no thought or worry as to what school assignments may be pressing or what hours of piano practice I should be putting in. I don't feel the weight and pull of stress. I feel purely peaceful. I am still. I feel white and clean. I feel warm in my heart and clear in my head. I feel love. I am so happy. While inside the temple, I feel like I am walking on a bridge between Heaven and earth. I feel close to my God. I know without a doubt that I am in the house of the Lord. 


Every time I drive by it on the way to the community college or an MCO rehearsal or even Costco, my heart swells with joy. I can't help but smile and sing and gawk at the incredible architecture and beautiful stained glass windows. I've always been a sucker for stained glass, but these windows are exquisite. (Also, they look a lovely aqua color in the day and shine a bright yellow at night. It's absolutely beautiful regardless of the time of day.) I am always amazed at how the temple grass and flowers are completely resilient in the face of the Arizona storms and summers. While the front lawns of the rest of the desert dwellers are dusty, crunchy patches of brown straw, temple grass seems magical in comparison. Also, this temple is humongous. One of the first words that comes to my mind in describing its exterior is "mighty." It is the mightiest building I've ever been to.

I was able to be a part of the Gilbert Arizona Temple cultural celebration and dedication this year in March. I practiced choreography, learned sign language, sang songs, fitted costumes, and anticipated the celebration for months. We were honoring the great heroes of the past and celebrating our heritage. I'll always remember sloshing through ankle-deep water and mud in my Nephite costume, singing and twirling my flag as rain poured from the sky. It was spectacular. As I danced for a latter-day prophet of God along with 13,000 other young men and young women in the torrential rain, my life was changed. This was my temple. This was a house of the Lord. We had great cause to celebrate. (If you watch the video, you can find the songs I was in at 37:05, 1:04:05, 1:16:16, and 1:20:50. I also was a flag bearer for my stake in the very beginning of the program. Your very own Olivia Jensen makes a split second cameo appearance as she walks around waving to the crowds with her stake flag bearers at 23:02.)

(Pictured is me and my ward along with the multitudes just a few hours before the performance. I'm near the middle with the crazy ponytail with my back turned. At least I was present... You can see the storm clouds sneaking into the skies behind us. At this moment, we had no clue we would be up against a torrential downpour later.) 

As we practiced before the actual performance in the dress rehearsal, storm clouds gathered all around. However, there was a patch of clear sky above our practice as we sang and danced. We thought for a while that it would perhaps stay this way for the show somehow. It didn't, as you can see. :) This was not an unfortunate event at all, for the rain somehow perfected the message of the show. We were drenched, yet we danced and sang more stalwartly and passionately than we ever had done before.

You may be wondering why it poured during the celebration. Why wasn't the weather perfect? How could the rain be let to spoil everything? We certainly had a couple of those thoughts as we huddled together under tarps with blue lips and chattering teeth, soaked to the skin. Let me tell you, however. We prayed for the rain. All 13,000 of us. It's probably our fault. :) It hadn't rained in almost 6 months leading up to the celebration, for one. But you see, the week before the performance was a torturously dry one. It was swelteringly hot, as usual, which made practicing and running through dance numbers and moving thousands of kids across large spans of ground for hours exhausting. The grass of the park we practiced at was brown, dry, and dusty, so there soon was so much dust kicked up in the air that we couldn't breathe. They had to cut the 15-hour practice short that evening due to "hazardous levels of dust." So many kids were being taken by ambulance to the hospital due to asthmatic attacks or heatstroke or who knows what. We all returned home with hacking coughs, splitting headaches, aching limbs, sore throats, and sunburns. I lost my voice completely, along with many others I am sure. We prayed in our meetings and cars and homes afterward. While adults looked at the weather forecast and prayed for no rain, the youth prayed that we would be able to perform safely and inspirationally, without being prevented by the dust. Most of all, we wanted to show our love for the temple and bear out testimonies of Christ through song and dance. After all the hours of sacrifice and practice, the rain seemed like a capstone to this epic event, and it will never be forgotten by us. 

(Pictured are members of my region waiting to take our places in the final song. I'm the one with the long wavy hair just right of middle. My little brother is also one of these heads...)

One of the greatest moments I experienced while in this celebration was what occurred at the arrival of the prophet. The rain poured out in sheets over the crowd. I was standing on a platform all the way back by the jumbotrons with my fellow banner-bearers, so I couldn't see much of what was happening across the park. The ice cold rain pounding my face certainly wasn't helping me see any better. But oh, wait till you hear what happened when the prophet came. Perhaps we shouldn't have yelled so loud, but we couldn't help it. :) Everyone cheered and applauded as the prophet's car drove up. A ramada has been set up for the visiting authorities. The moment President Thomas S. Monson got out of the car, the rain stopped completely. We all fell quiet and watched him walk to his seat. I promise you, the very moment he was safely underneath the ramada, the rain picked up once again. Somewhere, someone began to sing the hymn "We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet." I was so far back that I only was able to hear and join in the last few phrases before it ended. "We thank the for every blessing bestowed by Thy bounteous hand. We feel it a pleasure to serve thee and love to obey Thy command." After we finished singing, the prophet stood and faced us. He and President Henry B. Eyring began to applaud us while the rain again grew to a roar. Or the crowd began to roar. Most likely, it was both. All 13,000 of those youth started yelling and hollering at the top of their lungs. I know I cheered just about as hard as I could. We certainly had reason to cheer, for a prophet of God had come to dedicate our temple. We knew he was a prophet of God. Our joy was full.

Another cool fact about my celebration experience was that I and some others had the opportunity to be in multiple songs where extras were needed for the partner dances. I got to maneuver around the outside of the field from one group to another in between songs through the mud while quickly changing costumes as I ran to be in time for the number. I and some other extras was often in complete panic mode as we tried to make speedy costume changes and locate our groups. A few times, I ran into line as the music began. It was worth every bit of extra practice hours, thought, for I wanted to participate in this event as much as I possibly could.

I remember standing in the light of the jumbotron with my stake flag bearers on the night of the performance. The six of us had a blast. I remember it really began to pour while we stood there. We first made some vain attempts to stay dry and warm, but alas, the rain could not be stopped. I remember we simply gave in to laughter, and we stood there with our heads upturned, mouths open. It was a fantastic moment.

On a more ridiculous note, I've been looking for a place to share this gem of a meme that was made shortly after the cultural celebration. It is relatable in every way. My friends and I found it to be extremely hilarious, especially after having huddled in the freezing cold water with groups of soaking wet males under tiny little tarps on that night. Oh brother, it was just great. XD

Something that many viewers may not have realized is the significance of the flags. Every single one of the 13,000 carried a personalized "Title of Liberty." We were asked to write something meaningful to us on the flag. I loved seeing what phrases, quotes, songs, and scriptures were meaningful for each individual. But me being me, I honestly could not decide which one would be the best. Which song, which scripture, or which quote would be worthy of my cultural celebration flag? Also, seeing as it was I who was designing it, it would have to be epic somehow. Finally, the day before the big dress rehearsal, I decided that I would go with every single idea I had and combine it into one, of course. :) It has ended up being a very meaningful memento of my experience, for this was the flag I twirled for hours and weeks and months practicing for the "flag dance" with my friends. I had sword fights with it and attempted to juggle it when we had free moments in practices. I ran after Captain Moroni in my Nephite outfit while waving it high. It's been dropped in mud, stained by grass, and soaked by rain. I'm probably going to keep it forever. I remember a moment when all the youth sang the closing number in the performance. Someone decided to raise their flag into the air as they sang. One by one, we all followed suit. It wasn't preplanned at all, but we all did it in sync nonetheless. There was a wordless feeling of unity, and we felt the Spirit so strongly as we sang. I'll never forget how my heart swelled up with love for the gospel of Christ. 

Another cool tidbit about this celebration was the Live True hand symbol that circulated around the participating youth. According to the celebration website, "The Live True logo is made up of a capital L and T representing Live True. Together they form a rectangular viewing window through which we 'set our sights' on the temple. When the 'L' and 'T' and made with the hands, it becomes a positive hand gesture we can share among other members of the church and nonmembers as a reminder to 'Live True' to our personal standards and beliefs. The purpose of the Cultural Celebration is to encourage us all to set the focus of our personal viewfinder on the Gilbert Arizona Temple." We all were simply beside ourselves to find that we now had our own secret gang sign for the temple celebration. ;) People would randomly stick out their left handed gun in practices or at church or school, and you'd rush to complete the rectangle with your right hand to finish the symbol. It was quite fun, really. 

For one last thought on this celebration, I want to mention one of the songs we heard called "I Choose This Day." Now when I first heard this song, I was bothered by its initial cheesiness. Week after week, we practiced the sign language with the video each night to the sound of giggles and snickers from other young men and women. I desperately tried to open my mind to the song and be serious about it, for I felt bad for feeling a bit doubtful about its success. Boy, was I ever wrong. Perhaps others may hear the song and have the same first reaction as I, yet this song has found a warm place in my heart today. The lyrics are as follows:

I Choose This Day

It's easy to talk about faith,

It's easy to do what's right

When there's no sacrifice;

It's so easy to preach about heart,

And say you'll be faithful and true 

When you know there's nothing to lose.

I could do so much good in my life 

And help my people in this land;

But what is there to live for

If I'm not true to who I am?

I choose this day, 

I choose the person I will be;

Do I fear man,
Deny who I am 

And all that I believe?

Will I stand tall?

Do I soar, or do I fall?

When the Spirit calls, 

Will I be strong, will I obey?

I will choose this day.

I look into the ev'ning sky 

And I see the temple of God;

The Spirit is telling me 

I've found Zion in the midst of Babylon.

I choose this day, 

I choose the person I will be;

I'll not fear man;
I know who I am, 

And what I believe.

I will stand strong 

And turn my back to Babylon.

I find my strength
When I kneel to pray.

I will follow the Lord,

I choose this day.

O verall, my life was changed as I participated in this historic celebration. I'll never forget the emotions I felt and the experiences I had. (If anything, the rains certainly ensured that there would be no forgetting this event...) I have been inside the temple and can attest to the unsurpassable beauty and feelings of peace one can witness inside it. I can hardly wait for the day that I can enter the temple with the man I will love and be sealed to him for eternity. When I research the names of my ancestors and visit often, it brings undeniable blessings of peace and happiness into my life. I know without a doubt that it is a house of the Lord. 

Ethereal Music: Yo-Yo Ma Plays Ennio Morricone

This entire album is magnificent.

"Oh, if we could all live life the way Yo-Yo Ma plays his cello."

-Brandon Stewart, Millennial Choirs and Orchestras

Every track is a work of art. They are not meant to be merely listened to. Every drop of this kind of music is meant to be indulged in and savored. Try it. You'll experience the adventure, hear the majesty, and witness the genius of this romantic music. You'll feel something great. Here are a few of my favorites:

Breathtaking Views: Prince of Peace

This painting, entitled Prince of Peace, is by Akiane Kramarik, who is considered to be one of the most successful child prodigy artists who ever lived and the "youngest binary genius in both realism art and poetry." I would highly recommend thoroughly perusing her entire art website, for it will astound you.

She painted this when she was 8 years old.

Below is the poem she wrote to accompany it:

Perhaps I wanted to catch it
perhaps not

But one morning
an eagle dropped a diamond

And right then
with my faulty brush
full of my own hair
I wanted to paint

I wanted to paint the wings-
Too late - they flew away
I wanted to paint a flower
Too late - it withered

That night the rain
was running after me
Each drop of rain
showed God's face
His face was everywhere
On homes and on me

I wrung out the love
to make the red

I wrung out the stumps
to make the brown

I wrung out the trust
to make the pink

I wrung out my own eyes
to make the blue

I wrung out the seaweed
to make the green

I wrung out the nightly pain
to make the black

I wrung out my grandmother's hair
to make the gray

I wrung out my visions
to make the violet

I wrung out the truth
to make the white

Today I want to paint God's face
IT'S NOT TOO LATE!

-Akiane Kramarik, age 8

Ethereal Music: La Mer

Claude Debussy. There's just something about his music that is truly otherworldly. I usually don't choose favorites, but I must say, Debussy would be on my list of top ten favorite composers. This song. This song is absolutely incredible. It is called "La Mer," or "The Sea."

I first heard it with one of my dear friends played live by the Phoenix Symphony in concert. It brought me to tears and gave me chills at nearly every swell and resolution and powerful chord. I loved each and every one of those three movements. It was, however, the very first movement that best painted the picture of the sea, brought back childhood memories of the ocean, and pierced my heart.

Imagine it as you listen. It is the early morning. The sun is beginning to rise over the horizon. The sand is glistening like diamonds. The waves are as smooth and as shining as silver. The ocean is waking up, and you are a blessed witness. As you listen, you'll hear it grow brighter and brighter. You'll hear the soft sand and the foamy waves and the growing height of the swells of water. At the end of this piece, you'll hear the sun come up. You'll hear the ocean basking in the light and the crashing waves and the golden sand. 

That's the thing about music like this. You can hear what you would see. You can hear a story without words having ever been uttered. You can hear thoughts and textures and colors and emotions and pictures without ever having to open your eyes or reach out your hands. Try it. I promise it will change your life.

"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent." 

-Victor Hugo

"Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything." 

-Plato

"Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy."

-Ludwig von Beethoven

Breathtaking Views: Mysterious Magical Pink Snowy Mountain...

I have no idea what mountain this is, but it has served as my mac laptop wallpaper for over a year now. I swear it has magical, stress-relieving properties. Just stare at it for a second. Take a deep breath. You'll love it.

Ethereal Music: How Great Thou Art

Listen to this, my friend. Singing this song in this choir changed my life.

"When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow in humble adoration,
And there proclaim, 'My God, how great thou art!'
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to thee.
How great thou art!
Amen."

https://play.spotify.com/track/0BRIYsewhx91yQFoNs3ktT

(The video I originally linked to was deleted due to a copyright claim, so I hope the link above works. You're wonderful.)

Hester's Strength - A Literary Analysis

            Nathaniel Hawthorne, author of the 1840 romantic era masterwork, The Scarlet Letter, has presented us with a protagonist by the name of Hester Prynne. Hawthorne’s Puritan ancestry ignited in him a curiosity in the America of the seventeenth-century and in Puritan motivations and actions of that time. In his book, Hawthorne’s ideas and opinions about that period are reflected in the heroine he created. His first description of Hester seems static, telling of her “natural dignity and force of character,” but throughout the course of this renowned narrative, Hester exhibited a more dynamic character, which embodied a deep contradiction. As The Scarlet Letter developed, Hester Prynne’s strength was evident in certain dealings with her fellows, for she broke the bounds of her past iniquity with her honesty, good will, and service. She was confined to prison for many years following a grievous sin, yet she arose from this trial with honor. Likewise, she was later cast out of society to live alone in the forest, yet she focused her efforts on serving the very people who had shunned her. Throughout the rest of her life, her chest remained branded with an outward symbol of her mistakes, yet she achieved a victory over this “scarlet letter” and succeeded in changing its meaning in the eyes of the people.
            Although Hester was confined to seven years of punishment in prison for her adulterous affair, she emerged from this anguish with dignity and a deep trust in herself. We see Hester walk out of the dungeon in chapter two, proud and beautiful, carrying her infant, wearing the elaborately embroidered scarlet letter “A” on her chest. In that moment, standing on the scaffold, she experiences a painful realization, a foreshadowing of her fate; Hester then saw that because of the Puritan predominance in which she lives, society will not tolerate her. Hester determined that she must "sustain and carry" her burden forward "by the ordinary resources of her nature, or sink with it. She could no longer borrow from the future to help her through the present.” This courageous state of mind shapes her future from that turning point. In fact, the onlookers in that Massachusetts town were quite shocked by her vitality and strength. “Those who had before known her, and had expected to behold her dimmed and obscured by a disastrous cloud, were astonished, and even startled, to perceive how her beauty shone out, and made a halo of the misfortune and ignominy in which she was enveloped.” Although Hester did not realize this at first, this demonstration of her strength against the ridicule of her fellows provided a means for her future personal progression. Hester showed that even seven years of terrible imprisonment should not destroy one’s self-worth and beauty.
            During Hester Prynne’s time of loneliness and rejection as a public outlaw, she turned her efforts to the care of her daughter, Pearl, as well as to the kind service for others around her, despite her trials. With no friend, no companion, and no foot crossing the threshold of her cottage, Hester began to use her solitude for good, pondering and growing spiritually instead of feeling sorry for herself. She was already a skilled seamstress, so a means of employment is available to her, and she provided services for the Puritan townsfolk. However, she could have chosen to avoid them; after all, those she helped do not even acknowledge her on the street at first. Nevertheless, she comforted the poor, attended to the sick, and lifted the downtrodden, all in addition to giving tender care to her own young daughter, Pearl. In one instance, when Boston’s governor is dying, she came to his side. "She came, not as a guest, but as a rightful inmate, into the household that was darkened by trouble.” Because she accepted her own past sin and has a true desire to repent, she continued to give throughout the course of her life, in hopes of rectifying this mistake, and eventually became a figure of compassion in her community. Hester deliberately chose to change, which sends a powerful message to the reader about self-directed transformation. In the town, “they would say to strangers, ‘It is our Hester, the town’s own Hester, who is so kind to the poor, so helpful to the sick, so comfortable to the afflicted!’” By focusing on fulfilling others’ needs before her own, Hester Prynne amended what would otherwise have been years of isolation and loneliness.

            By reclaiming her life, finding peace within, and promoting honesty Hester was able to literally change the symbolic meaning of her “cursed” scarlet “A for adulteress” into an “A for able.”  Although she never cast off the embroidered scarlet letter permanently, it remained a mark of sin, a mark of an adulteress, a mark of scorn to those who saw her. But by the narrative’s completion, it is clear that Hester’s personal triumph resulted in a transformation of the letter’s meaning. It is now indicative of her virtue. “The scarlet letter ceased to be a stigma which attracted the world’s scorn and bitterness, and became a type of something to be sorrowed over, and looked upon with awe, and yet with reverence, too.” Hester’s inner calm is reflected in the attitude of the community when they acknowledge that she is a healer, a mother, and an “able” woman: “They said that it meant Able; so strong was Hester Prynne, with a woman's strength." The message Hawthorne sends is that anyone can cast off what might otherwise be life-defining weaknesses and failures through sincere, determined, and profound virtue and selflessness of character. Hester Prynne alone was the one who, by her own deliberate actions, changed the society’s cursed stigma of the “scarlet letter” into a symbol of great morality and strength; she not only found peace, she promoted it.
            Through artistic language and symbolism, Nathaniel Hawthorne brought Hester Prynne to life. Despite her tremendous punishment in prison, her outcasting from society, and her scarlet branding, Hester emerged triumphant. These examples of enduring character throughout Hester’s life make her a timeless heroine of American Literature. The novel reveals that it truly was Hester's undying strength, honesty, and compassion that carried her through her lifelong trials. We read that Hester lived on, quietly serving, and became somewhat of a legend in an obscure Massachusetts colony, and remains so even in the world today. She had sinned, yet she rectified it. She lived in darkness, yet chose to turn to light.  We can see that it is the dynamic contrasting of her character over time that makes Hester Prynne’s story a classic. Hester became free of her sin by extending good will and exemplifying virtue; this lesson of change is what Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter teaches the world.

Olivia Jensen, 2013

ENFJ

Today was the fifth time I have taken the 16 Personalities Test.

Every. Single. Time. Without. Fail. I have gotten ENFJ.

My percentages for each trait have only varied slightly each time. I have waited months in between tests to make sure my mind is fresh when I retest, just to see if something may be different this time. Nevertheless, I get the same result.

I am not sure why I was a bit frustrated with this. Because my results are incredibly accurate, I realized much about myself that I had not known before. In these moments of realization, I sometimes wish I could be something different. A more tender, thoughtful, prospecting person. Less rebellious, less prideful, less judging. I know I can be more like this. I do try. I often am.

But I've been thinking lately that I need to play my own strengths. As I read through the personality description today, I couldn't help but feel a swell of confidence and joy. I have so much to give to the world. I could have told you that without having to read my personality analysis. ;) Rather than trying to change what I have and how I am, I need to start showing the world around me my best self. Giving more. Becoming who I am.

Here is a bit about me, a solid ENFJ.

Mind: Extraverted
Energy: Intuitive
Nature: Feeling
Tactics: Judging
Identity: Turbulent

Everything I do right now affects everyone? I can understand that could be true for anyone... But wow. This certainly packs on the pressure if there is truth in it. Every good deed I do. Every word I type or speak. Every mistake I make. My very posture. My demeanor. My glance. My speech. It affects everyone. Think of the good somebody could do with a gift like this! You could be such a tremendous influence for good on your fellows. Also, think of the sadness I could spread. Think of the negative influence I could have. I have seen myself act on both sides of the spectrum in my life. If my "every act can open hearts and minds," I must not take it for granted.

This paragraph is frighteningly true. Just now I realized something. Literally, just as I screenshot that paragraph to embed in my post, I realized the truth about a relationship with my friend. An "emotional hypochondria" I had naturally created. Here it is. It makes me feel so vulnerable that I feel sick, but I'm going to share it. 

Yesterday, I think I may have lost a friend. We met at a leadership conference and immediately connected. We shared loves for the same subjects, we were passionate about the same ideas, and we each felt inspired and impressed by the dreams, skills, and goals of the other. After the conference ended, we got to know each other better despite the fact that we live hundreds of miles apart. We became emotionally close very quickly. Later, I realize that it was too fast, too soon. He shared his greatest struggles and biggest dreams and deepest fears. I shared mine. We laughed and argued and cried and joked and debated. I felt like all the pieces fit. My mom called it simple "twitterpation," but I feel like it was more/worse than just a bit of giddiness. I felt so involved in his emotional well-being that it became connected with my own. I trusted him deeply, more than I trusted other friends. 

Over time, he started changing and I saw the signs. I should have pulled back, yet I kept trying to reach him even when he began treating me that way. He was blunt and insensitive, but I was convinced that I had accidentally been the same way; thus, I kept trying in vain, giving every ounce of kindness and patience I could muster. Perhaps I had offended him, yet to this day I am unaware of anything I have done. I cared for this guy and I wanted to help him be happy, but it taxed me greatly.

So when he completely snapped one night, it shattered me. He really did hurt me more than he probably realized. Nothing could be the same after that, and he later said he knew that and was deeply sorry. He said he still cared about me and wanted to be friends. He wanted to try and fix it, but I didn't. I was done. I was also feeling relieved after I got over the hurt feelings. The relationship between us was not symbiotic, for it hurt me while it may have benefitted him. Honestly, I don't know what he got. I hope I helped him just a little. I thought I might have. I tried to help him, to be his friend. He was going through some very difficult trials, but weeks and weeks would go by and I would call and send messages full of questions and thoughts and friendly things and all I would get were a few one-word answers. He refused to call because, for some reason, he doesn't like talking on the phone. He said he didn't have time to talk to me because of his busy schedule. I completely understand what it is like to be busy. I often feel that I barely have time to breathe. Soon he said that I wasn't worth making time. When he did have time, he was never kind. He was sharp and short and quick to take offense and take out his anger. I was constantly worried I was doing something wrong and I wanted to help. I wanted to see if we could be friends again. Those vain efforts held me back. He limited me. After a long while, I realized it. Man, I wish I had gotten out of there sooner. 

Yesterday, I asked him straight up if he still liked me. He said he didn't know, so I was thinking, "Thank goodness. The feeling is mutual, and we can talk through this and just be friends in the end." But I was wrong. Essentially, he said that if I wasn't going to be his girl exclusively, he didn't want to be friends at all. If I didn't want to be that, it must mean that I liked someone else or that I didn't care about him or that I was "done." He claimed that he was done because I was done. I was done because he was done. I think I was more done. I was done being treated like that. I was done being taxed. I was done with getting stabbed every other week. I basically told him that it's not fun to be stabbed. Or ignored. Or told to go away. Or told you're unintelligent or not worth time or effort or kindness. I told him that's what I've been getting from him. He didn't know what to say other than, "Well I guess you're done." We haven't spoken since, and that's okay with me.

I spoke with a few of my dearest friends today. They listened well and were completely and bluntly honest with me. I had made a mistake and I needed to be careful. I had been too proud to admit I had fallen into a trap. I became too involved, and I acted on my feelings rather than my logic. I learned much from it, and I definitely will not be making this mistake again.

Wow. There's that story. We made it.

This is ridiculously true. How on earth do they know this??!? I feel like my brain has been dissected... I most definitely have a genuine love for people. I love talking with others and getting to know them and hearing their thoughts. It truly does fascinate me. It is also true that "it is with these closest friends that ENFJs will truly open up." Aside from these few deep friendships, my other "connections" are still wonderfully authentic yet not as incredibly close. Yet regardless of the level, when I gain a friend I would never want to lose them. My relationships with my friends and family members mean a lot to me.

I think this may be a bit of a weakness for me, for I would much rather make the rules rather than have to deal with the implementation of a poorly structured system. For example, in school settings I am more inclined towards working on a project by myself rather than having to work in a group underneath the influence of someone else, especially a peer. I would much rather achieve excellence within the safety of my own ability. I am perfectly capable of handling such a group situation, however, but I don't prefer it. I know, that may seem a bit weird and perhaps sounds slightly selfish, but it is more of a matter of safety, standard, and reliability for me. I know I can successfully lead a group with love and logic. It feels safer to act at the head of the group, have some influence near the top, or at least have a complete understanding and trust in the other leader's plans. It is true, I do not often seek out those leadership roles, but I do enjoy them most often. There is a certain thrill in realizing that you have the power to inspire and influence others when they have selected you to represent or lead them.

It is true. "The one thing that galls ENFJs the most is the idea of letting down a person or cause they believe in." When I am unable to be reliable or uphold something so important to me, I feel incomplete. At the same time, I feel the need to look out for my own endeavors. It must be a cause that I believe in, rather than one I am compelled to support. I feel like I must keep trying to accomplish my work or support a person or fight for a cause. I love knowing that I am working toward something bigger, something greater. I have seen what happens in relationships where I give much and don't get anything in return, as I shared in that experience. 

I am really feeling the urge to go delete that story... But nah, I already told it. I had better keep it now before I refuse to tell it ever again, for someone may need to learn from that story someday. I may need to look back and remind myself what I had felt. 

This is how I hope to teach religion and morality as a parent. The gospel can only be taught by you if you are practicing what you preach. I hope to be that archetype of faith for my own children. 

Here is one last tidbit from the personality introduction. I only hope I live up to this description in some way.

My dear friend, take the 16 Personalities test if you like. I highly recommend it, as you have probably concluded. Your results could surprise you and open your eyes to strengths and characteristics you may not have seen in yourself before. It rocks. You rock. Thanks for taking the time to read this little post. :)

Sincerely, 

Olivia Jensen, ENFJ