Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves                                                  — Confucius

I never set out to get revenge, but now the opportunity has presented itself and part of me has been tempted by the idea of it. But let me start at the beginning. I love people because that is the one ability I have that I am completely confident in. I can be loyal, and I can be loving. I know that for sure. Sometimes this causes me a lot of pain. The problem is that more often than not I will end up loving people who have no regard for me. There have even been times in which I loved people who hated me. I am sure everyone on this planet has probably experienced this at least once in their life, so I don’t have to tell you that it hurts. It feels like they’ve torn your heart out of your chest and watched as you bled to death on the floor. You see just how much they don’t care, and I think that hurts more than anything.

I loved a boy, romantically. This does not happen very often, but every now and again I get all twitterpated. Anyway, I have never ever before in my life truly acted on feelings like these. And NEVER have I told the person of my affection that I cared so deeply for them, most people find that creepy…it’s best to keep it to yourself. Otherwise you get labeled, and then all the people you love turn their back on you. ANYWAY >.> I decided that this time was going to be different. I was not going to let my life be ruled by my fears any longer! So I decided I would tell this boy that I liked him. Here’s how it went down. (Names have been changed for people’s privacy)


“Hey…Matt…,” I half whisper looking away shyly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he responds.

“I…I…I like you,” I splutter. My cheeks burn and turn a dark crimson. I feel so uncomfortable, and I have no idea what to say next. The silence is deafening. He doesn’t respond. “I like you…like you…,” I finish. Still silence…I know what’s going to happen. I know the reaction that’s on his face even before I lift my eyes to see it. 

“That’s nice,” he mutters, his voice steel. The dead look in his eyes lets me know that there’s not even an inkling of reciprocation. He jumps up from the couch and marches to his room slamming the door behind him. I am left alone in the lounge staring after him. Two or three tears break through my ironclad defenses and slip down my cheeks, staining them with trails of salt.

The next day, he acts as if nothing happened. We are friends, just like we always were. I am grateful for this tender mercy, even if my heart still aches. Even if I feel completely worthless and rejected, at least I’m still his friend. At least he doesn’t hate me.

So after a few months, I have gotten over this. I have stopped feeling hurt by him, and recently he’s been acting VERY interested in me. The time may soon come when the tables are turned. This time, he may be the one confessing his feelings to me, and part of me wants to dash his heart into pieces. It would be fair. He did the exact same thing to me. Now he expects to come to me a couple months later, and for me to have feelings for him. I know it’s because something didn’t work out with another girl. So now I’m doubly hurt. I am good enough for second best, and he thinks I will be desperate enough to just run into his arms all hunky dory. 



I may not grind his heart into powder, like he did mine. I will not be cold toward him. I will not speak hurtfully. I will be kind and loving as I tell him that I don’t feel that way about him anymore. But I will never ever let anyone treat me this way. I will not be the fool to be played twice. I really hope that one day he ends up happy and married and with a family, but it will not be with me. 


Love: The Ultimate Form of Respect

So, a lot of women in my church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) are wearing pants to Sacrament Meeting tomorrow. They’re doing it in some sort of protest. They don’t feel equal to the men, and so they’re staging this protest to show that they don’t like how they’re feeling. Reading the different women that are doing this, I keep hearing that they believe God sees all of us as equals, but they have doubts about our leadership.

I don’t understand this. I am sure there are probably some bishops somewhere or men in general somewhere in the world that are members of this church that are sexist. They are probably trying to practice unrighteous dominion, and I can totally understand women in these areas feeling less than equal. I do not understand how any women that have heard the apostles and prophets speak at General Conference can think that those men are sexist. One example that I keep thinking about is Richard G. Scott. He is a current apostle, and for the last year or so he has ALWAYS mentioned his wife at least once in his talks. He has even given at least 2 talks centered around her and how she was one of the best people ever.

In fact, when I hear Richard G. Scott talk about his wife, I am really envious (I know, I know “thou shalt not covet.”). But I mean, I would give an arm and a leg to have a man that loved and respected me the way Elder Scott loves and respects his wife. AND THIS IS WHEN I REALIZED IT! People that truly love you, they automatically respect you, because LOVE is the ultimate form of respect. So really, these women that are feeling unequal are probably not being shown enough love. Or they are choosing to ignore it. I think it is probably the former of the two.

So how do we remedy this? I think the answer is love, the more I study the gospel and think about life the more I realize that the answer is *always* love. It’s true love. Not infatuation. Not wishing to please everyone. BUT TRUE LOVE! Doing things for people that you know will be the best for them. Which makes sense, the two greatest commandments both center around love. I guess I am just tired of divisiveness. I just want people to love each other.

The Best Laid Plans

I think it is funny how the Universe aligns to ruin any sort of progress I try to make…

But let me start at the beginning…

Last semester (Spring 2012), I started losing weight. I was running everyday, and I had limited how many sweets I ate per week. I was counting calories everyday. I was even drinking more than eight glasses of water a day to make sure I was drinking enough. It worked for a while, I lost about twenty pounds within the first two months. Then classes got really hard, and I fell off of the healthy train again. It was freshman year all over again, and I went crawling back to my ice cream and chocolate for emotional support because all of the stress was getting to me. And just like that I gained back five pounds. But I managed to keep the rest of the weight off through finals, and then summer hit! OH SUMMER! It became my savior, that intermittent time between semesters when I don’t have anything to do but improve myself and learn. I made plans to diet and workout all summer to continue losing weight and to get fit. It seemed fool proof at the time.

* start karate
* start kickboxing
* workout everyday
* eat only 1200 Calories a day
* drink lots of water
* no processed sugar

This summer was going to be amazing! I was going to get thin, strong, and gorgeous. I was going to work so hard. The plan was there, I had set everything up. And it did go that way for a while. I was going to either kickboxing or karate everyday, and I could feel myself getting stronger. All of my muscles were getting more and more toned. But I noticed that I was not only improving physically. I have quite a few problems with self-esteem and confidence, but those were disappearing. As I got stronger physically I became more and more confident in all of my abilities. It was just the miracle I needed. My plan was turning out even better than I had previously thought! But as they say, “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” And as suddenly as it came, it was all taken from me. I got about a month of weight loss and exercise in before it was torn from me.

July 7th…I will never forget the day. I had spent the entire afternoon swimming with my nephews and a friend of mine named, George. Then we had had dinner, Papa John’s Pizza. It was delicious and I was still so happy from the food and the water. I absolutely love swimming! But we finished dinner, and I went into the study to play video games with my nephews. Just then, Lexia (my super adorable niece that’s a little more than a year old.) was on the couch. She was about to fall. I could see it in my mind’s eye, Lexia falling and cracking her head open on the table that was perched just underneath her waiting for her tiny, unsteady legs to give out. I jumped up from the bean bag and began running towards her. But my right leg didn’t like that, it slipped out from underneath me; and my left leg attempted to catch me. But he botched it, and instead, he twisted all sorts of funny directions. My body fell, and with a loud CRACK! I snatched Lexia just before she fell. But nothing comes without a price. Sharp pains kept coming and going, and I cried a little. I was hoping with all my might, that it was just a sprain. I wasn’t going to have a broken leg.

I called my new brother-in-law, Mike, cause he’s a doctor. I didn’t want to have to go to the Emergency Room. I didn’t want to have a broken leg. So I called him to see if he could come look at it and tell me whether I really needed to go or not. He came by with my sister, and sure enough. I needed to go to the ER. My world felt like it was falling apart. Everything I had worked for. All of my plans, and all the progress I made felt like it was nothing. “Back to square one, Hannah,” a cold voice whispered in my head. Arrangements were made, and my sister (who conveniently runs the hospital in my town) made sure that when I got to the ER there was someone waiting for me. They wheeled me to get x-rays, and my sister came down from her office to visit me. Sure enough, it was broken. I sobbed…I sobbed for the lost opportunities…for the wasted summer…for my own self pity. I sobbed and sobbed. My leg hurt, but the tears of pain had been shed long ago and now all that streamed from my face were tears of sorrow. They wrapped me in a splint and sent me home.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

On Monday, I went to see the orthopedic doctor! He took one look at my x-rays and started laughing. Then, still chuckling, he said, “Damn girl. You are a pro.” Then proceeded to tell me that I had broken my leg really badly, and I was going to have to get a metal plate, some screws, and a cable all put into my leg. The tears came again as question after question flowed from my mouth. Would I be able to run again? Would I still be able to do kickboxing? How long would I have to be on crutches? When would I be able to walk? Why did I have to have surgery?

But a month and a half, a surgery, and 3 casts later, and here I am. I still struggle with the whys…why all of this had to happen. But I try to push it away, I try to stay focused on the things I am learning from this experience, and the strength this experience can give me. I want to say that I have definitely become a better person through this trial that I have had to go through, but I am not sure that that is true. I will keep trying though. I may not be able to run, but I can still improve my physical body and I can still work on improving myself as a person. I am just grateful that when I broke my bone, it didn’t break through my skin. Hoorah! for the small and tender mercies of the Lord.

Thoughts on Interpersonal Relationships

So I have really been contemplating the sorts of relationships that can occur between different people. Thinking about it, I feel as if I have very many different types of relationships with people. For example, I have my family. I love all of them very much and the love I have for my family members is not at all similar as the sort of love I feel toward my friends. I love them on a more personal level, and I do not have any inhibitions from showing them the parts of me that I feel need work. I will show them my weaknesses and my insecurities and I will always let them know what I’m thinking. If they ask a question, I will tell them EVERYTHING I think or feel about that question without any sort of filter. I know they will love me unconditionally. They may not always approve of all of my actions, and they may reprimand me for things I do incorrectly. But all of those things, are forms and manifestations of their love. They want me to be the best person I can and they will not judge me as I attempt to do better.

But with friends it is very different. I feel like each friend group requires me to stifle a bit of myself =\ I don’t know how to change that. Will I know who I should be with when I can show them all of me without worrying about their reactions. Should I not be with anyone who cannot accept every part of me? even the faults? Will anyone ever be able to accept me with all of that? If anyone knew every single detail about me and my past and what I have done…would they ever love me? I can’t seem to find someone that will love me without seeing all of my faults…how could I possibly think that there would be someone out there willing to accept all of it. Who would love me unconditionally…that person doesn’t exist. I am pretty sure my family are the only people that will ever love me like that. It seems depressing, but really…that’s how it goes. I just am not a good enough of a person. That’s just what I have to live with.

Random Thoughts

Recently I have been thinking about my life. I don’t really know where I’m headed, and while that adds excitement and drama to my life it also adds a lot of fear and worry. I don’t know where I will be next year, and I find I am having the same problem I had when I went from high school to college. I don’t like the unknown…in fact, I absolutely hate it. I hate not knowing what my fate is. Recently that just got a lot harder. I broke my leg really really badly and all of my plans got ruined. I guess it truly is as they say, “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” Well….all my plans have gone awry. I haven’t been able to get thinner and stronger like I wanted. As a result I feel like I am not beautiful in the least, and any confidence I was building by doing kickboxing was quickly and silently killed. It is almost as if I have an assassin in my head that keeps killing any good thoughts I have about myself. I grow weary of feeling this way. I’m sure these feelings I have hurt the people I love, and I have tried over and over and over again to get rid of them. I just can’t seem to shake them though. Whenever I feel I have conquered and the light is shining brilliantly in my head the shadows slowly but surely creep out and grow bigger until the light’s been swallowed in it the shadows’ blackness.

What am I going to do after I graduate from MIT? I don’t really know. I love MIT, but at the same time it feels like a huge burden. It means people expect more of me…and I am afraid of letting people down. I do it a lot though, so I don’t know why I’m not over that yet. But as soon as people hear you are from MIT they say things like “Oh?! When are you gonna cure cancer?” or “Remember me when your filthy stinkin’ rich :P” or “Mention me in your Nobel Prize Winner Speech ;D” and other various things that just make me feel like there is SO much expected of me just because of three tiny little letters. How is that fair? Why don’t people expect this much of everyone else? Similar things are said when I tell people I am Mormon/LDS. All of a sudden I am a weirdo that sacrifices babies, has greater than or equal to two mothers, and has horns. Or if I ever turn something down in the future they always end up saying I did that “because I’m Mormon.” As if I can’t just dislike parties or I can’t just dislike coffee or I can’t just dislike hearing jokes about sexual innuendo. Nope, everything I do…it’s because I’m Mormon…no other reason. It is not like I even have my own stupid identity. I am just defined by whatever label they want to slap on me.

Gah…random tangent. I guess I have just been feeling very inferior recently. A guy likes me a lot and has expressed interest, but I have heard and seen and met his previous girlfriend. She is so much better than me in every aspect. I just feel so inferior to her, and don’t know why he even looked twice at me or why he even got to know me. I feel like a fat, ugly, failure next to his previous person. It’s like I could never live up to that, so then what is the point? It is kind of a self defeating attitude, and I know that. I realize that I am being really stupid for feeling this way, but I still feel this way. I still feel like a loser. I still feel hideous. I am just…tired of it I guess. I am tired of thinking and being. I say I want to sleep for a million years ALL of the time, but really I just wish my existence would vanish. Feeling nothing. Being nothing.

God has given you one face, and you make yourself another. -Shakespeare

I’ve been thinking recently about what it means to “be yourself.” I’ve been observing others and from what I can see, people change a lot…so which version is the real one? If we don’t ever change does that mean we’re sticking to our true selves…or does that simply mean we’re too spineless and afraid to change to attempt to be something better? If you attempt to be better you might fail, but does never attempting it make you better? People all have to mature and grow up, except for Peter Pan, but does maturing make you a different person than you were when you were young? But the goal in life is to become a different person…it’s to become more like Christ. So perhaps “being yourself” can actually be a bad thing. That’s one thing that really scares me though, if we were all to become perfect would we all in essence become the same person? Do I lose my personality if I finally become perfect? I don’t want to lose who I am for anything. I hope that’s not a requirement for perfection.


I grow weary of people. I guess I’m just done with them. I know that I’m not supposed to feel this way, but it’s just so hard. I love so much, and when I let people in…I really let them in. I try to be loving and understanding and compassionate, but then they go and betray me. I’ve decided it’s not worth it. It’s not worth being there for people as often as you physically can be. It’s not worth sacrificing your time and your sleep and everything else for beings that will just turn their back on you as soon as you’re not longer of use to them. I guess it’s just that no matter what I do, I’ll never be good enough for them. I’ll never be amazing enough to convince them to stay my friends. I would just like to have just one good friend here in Boston, but it seems that that is too much to ask for. I don’t care though. I don’t care about anything anymore. What’s the point of school if I’ll never understand it? What’s the point of “making friends” if none of them will ever really care? What’s the point of going to church if the people that I’m trying to learn from just look down on me and seem to hate everything about me? I’m sorry I’m not good enough for anyone. I’m sorry that I’m a constant failure, but it’s okay…you probably won’t have to deal with me for much longer anyway ^.^

I just can’t wait to go home. I don’t fit here. I don’t know why I bothered trying…Sister Hakes was right. I’ve just ended up being a financial burden on my parents, and for what? …nothing….