If you have read my book, you know this already.

I used to hate me. 

As a teenager, I was my own worst enemy. The only thing that was worse than looking in the mirror was looking in the mirror while trying on new clothes. It was horrible. I spent many a high school shopping trips wiping away tears in a dressing room.

I didn’t buy nice clothes. It felt like a waste. I didn’t wear pretty things. What was the point?

My heart breaks for that Annie. She missed so many chances to be beautiful.

God has taken the last decade and a half and done a mighty work in my heart and mind. He has changed me from the inside out. Though I still have to fight the lies in my head, it is minimal compared to what used to rage between my ears.

Hence the reason I want to blog about the most beautiful dress I have ever bought. Because it is a redemptive thing, you see.

There was a fun New Year’s Eve party this weekend, swanky stuff, cocktail attire. My plan was to wear a new bridesmaid dress [that is also, luckily, gorgeous] but I decided to pop up to the mall just for fun. I had a little Christmas cash that I was willing to drop on a new dress.

I entered the department store and encountered a very kind lady. She asked my size, the occasion, and then her eyebrows raised. “How do you feel about sequins?”

See, here’s another thing. When God changed my heart and mind to be able to see myself more the way He sees me, a lot of things changed. I started to genuinely love some girly things that I didn’t before … namely, SPARKLE / GLITTER / SEQUINS.

So when she offered sequins, my eyes said it all. But I still answered, “yes and yes and yes please.”

She reached through a line of dresses hung on a rack to the very back. She said, “we only have one of these and it is in your size.” And then she pulled out a navy blue one shoulder number, covered from top to bottom with blue and black sequins.

I had a few other dresses in my hand, but it was useless. My heart beat always and only for that blue sequin piece of beauty.

I tried it on. I sent a picture from the dressing room to the fashion decision makers in my life. We all agreed.

It was beautiful.

I loved every minute that I got to wear it. And I’m going to wear it as often as possible in the future. To lunch? Maybe, if you ask nicely. To your birthday party? Or your wedding? Or to buy groceries? Probably. Because I love that dress.

(Me and Nichole and Lyndsay)

Why tell this story? It seems weird to spend a whole post talking about a dress.

I’m writing this in honor of that fifteen year old Annie, that girl who didn’t know she was pretty. I’m writing this because I would give anything to sit down with her. She needed to hear that when you look good, you feel good. That a beautiful dress can change the way you look AND feel. She needed to know that she was prettier than she heard in her head.

I didn’t know then. But I know now. And I am so glad to have seen, first hand, that God can take the lies away and replace them with truth.

And that He has made everything beautiful in its time.

[Will you share this story with a young woman in your life who needs to read it? Or a friend who needs to know that there is hope for her sad heart? Maybe she will listen better than I did. Maybe she will find a beautiful dress sooner than I did.]

Also. Just for kicks. I got my nails painted with tiny confetti sequined nail polish. Do you love or do you love? Try it sometime. You’ll be glad you did.

. . . . .

Do you have a piece of clothing that you LOVE? Tell me about it!

I’m happy.

For recap’s sake, here’s where I’ve been since I was in Scotland last week.

[I was in Scotland last week. I used to live there. My insides feel bizarro.]

I spent a jet-lagged and wonderful Thanksgiving week with my family. We ate lots of food and I slept some weird hours and I got frustrated at weird times and really enjoyed some weird moments that probably no one else even noticed. I ate Waffle House’s hashbrowns and Chick-fil-A’s chicken and Aunt Carol’s grape salad. We played Wii and I got my nails painted burnt orange.

I also washed clothes and THEN DRIED THEM IN A TUMBLE DRYER.

[It was such a beautiful thing, that moment when the dryer stopped and the clothes were fluffy and not at all wet. I sighed with delight.]

We celebrated my mom’s birthday and Thanksgiving and it was just some quality family time.

I drove back to Nashville on Sunday morning just in time to go to church. I grabbed lunch with some girls and then spent a few hours with the newest baby in my life [he was born last week and I'm already DEEPLY in love with his tiny self] and his dear parents. Then sushi and a movie and a night of restful sleep in a city I love.

“Home sweet home” is a funny title for this post being that, well, I don’t have a home here in Nashville. I’m a vagabond, a couch surfer. I’m hopping from home to home for the next few weeks as I sort out a living situation… or better said, as I wait for God to open the right doors to provide the best place for me to live. [Prayers appreciated.]

But even without an address, my heart feels at home here in Nashville. It’s like the pool of my soul has stopped swirling and everything is settling back into place.

And the whole week I spent at my parents’ house was home sweet home to the millionth degree.

And for the last five months, my heart has been at home in Edinburgh, Scotland… and I miss that place and those people.

Life is weird, isn’t it?

Dear Laura,

I think about the first time we met- when you were moving in to Marisa’s condo and Betsy and I showed up to give you the key. And not help you at all. Thanks for not letting that define us.

Over the years, our friendship grew and we simply had a blast all the time. It was great to have another Georgia Bulldog in town, another girlfriend to confide in, and another soccer fan who really speaks the language of the sport.

Then.

Roommates.

As we have discussed multiple times, living with you healed a lot of hurts in my soul. You fought a lot of battles that were never meant for you. But you fought anyways. You cleaned up messes that others made in my heart. And I’m forever grateful.

You suffered through me leaving clean clothes in the dryer… for days. You put up with my true dislike of taking the trash out. You shared your own ROOM with me when our friend was in need a place to stay. For months.

[Side story: So Laura and I shared a room and a bed for a while. Girls can do that stuff and it's not as weird as it apparently is for boys, especially when a friend is homeless and broken and needs a room and a bed. Anyways, one night, we were laying in bed and I was reading Real Simple and Laura was playing Angry Birds and I looked over to her and said, "Yeah, this is NOT how I pictured my life at 30 years old." And I think she said for me to shut up.]

[Back to my letter to Laura.]

And best of all, Laura, you kept a close eye on my love of fruit, making sure there is an orange in the fridge many days of the week.

You’re a really really great roommate. And a great friend.

The way you love Africa, the way you love your community, the way you love T.J. Maxx. It is all inspirational.

Also, I respect the way you forgive people.

Which is why, Laura, I need to tell you something.

I hijacked your brown flats and brought them to Scotland.

Keep the forgiveness comin’….

I miss you. And so do your shoes.

Love,

Annie

I’m just writing. [for (in)courage....]

And holiday-ing.

And spending time with family.

And partying.

And dancing.

And writing. [some new stuff....]

And resting.

And writing. [That leader's guide is killin' me.]

And hanging with friends.

And enjoying all the musicians being home from their tours.

And running. [ugh.]

And laughing.

So all that to say…

I’m here.

I’m just living.

See y’all soon.