This dress feels a little too tight.

I feel kinda fat.

When am I going to start working out, jesus.

Do they notice how much I’m pulling at this dress?

I feel like my ass is just out there in the open.

You look anxious.

Stop looking so anxious.

How long has that guy been looking at me?

What is he staring at?

Do I have something on my face?

Does he notice this last-minute pimple that just popped up out of freaking nowhere?

I hate this.

When can we go home?

Is it bad if I ask my friend to go home?

We’ve only been here for an hour.

Shit.

Wait, is that girl walking up to me?

She looks drunk.

I don’t think I remember her name???

Dear god what is she going to say.

“Heyyyyyyy girl, how’re you!!”

 


 

I don’t really consider myself a “fake” person.

I definitely want to come across as “down to earth” and “genuine.”

Does consciously thinking that make me fake?

I dunno.

Whatever.

I’ve struggled with social anxiety for a long time now.

Some days it’s worse than others.

A few years back, I used to blog… a lot.

You probably noticed.

I loved writing about my thoughts.

My life.

My lessons.

Then I kind of phased out of that.

Again, you might’ve noticed.

Mostly because it got to the point where I hated going out.

It terrified me.

Because no matter where I went, who I was with, or what was going on,

Somebody brought up my blogging.

or my chaotic ~love life~

How it offended them or someone they loved.

How I shouldn’t have broken up with that guy.

How that guy should’ve probably broken up with me.

You know, casual party conversations.

 


I started to really care about what people thought of me.

I started to believe that everything that’s ever happened to me wasn’t mine to share.

Like they weren’t my own stories.

I stopped writing for a while.

It was too much.

It was all too much.

And the really shitty thing is,

I love writing.

I love telling stories.

I love sharing.

I love connecting to other human beings.

I love people.

And I was terrified of people.

It caused complete turmoil in my heart and thoughts.

What if I write about this?

No, then that person will be offended.

Okay, well what if I wrote about that?

No, then everyone will believe you’re a basket case.

I used to be bold.

I used to be brave.

By god, my first piece ever was titled “Welcome to the Psych Ward (It’s More Like a Vacation Spot” 

It doesn’t get much bolder than that, friends.

I was outspoken.

But anxiety crippled me.

It suffocated the joy that was bursting inside of me when I wrote.

I allowed the thoughts of other people to define who I was.

Not cool, man.

So I write this to encourage you to look at your choices.

Why do you do the things you do?

Do you make choices based on other peoples’ opinions of you?

Do you not drink in public because you don’t want others to think you’re a drunk?

Or do you not drink in public because you feel safer drinking at home with friends?

Are your choices fear based or faith based?

Do you post obsessively about your relationship because you want all of your followers to believe that you guys are perfectly, hopelessly in love and not self conscious about the relationship?

Or do you post about your relationship because you are actually over the moon happy with this person?

What types of choices do you make?

For a long time, mine were fear based.

100%.

But I’ve learned over that past few years that who I am is not based on someone else’s opinion of me.

I am whoever I decide to be.

You are whoever you decide to be.

I’m a writer.

I’m a sharer.

I’m a story-teller.

I’m a comeback kid.

I’m Becca.

I am a lion.

And I am bold.

 

(Featured Image by: Alyssa Jiosa)

 

It came back.

I’m not sure how.

I’m not sure when.

It could’ve started when I lost my best friend.

Or when the love of my life no longer wanted to be mine.

Maybe when I couldn’t afford to feed myself for a few months.

Maybe it was a combination of everything.

There’s only one thing I know for sure,

It’s back.


The haze.

The haze that moves in like a sickening fog

Covering everyone and everything I’ve ever loved

Skewing my vision.

The haze that wraps me up like a soft blanket

But I feel no comfort or solace.

Just colder


This dream state of emotionlessness smothers my every move

My every expression.

I feel nothing.

I want nothing.

I am nothing.

Everyone’s presence exhausts me.

How can I seem interested in their stories when mine is just a bundle of blank pages?

I’ve lost myself.

Faded out of my own story.

And the one thing remaining?

The haze.


A storm will come.

Clean out every crevice until the haze is diffused into nothing.

That’s what happened before.

So I sit.

And watch the clouds.

Waiting in painless agony

for that very

first

drop.

Three Months Sober

“Should I invite him to my birthday party?” I asked my roommate while we sat on the floor of the kitchen playing with our cat.

“I’m really not sure what the best option is in this situation, honey.” She replied. Her eyes fell with concern like a caring mother.

“I would love to see him…” I said with a sigh.

“But it might cause too much of a scene to be a good idea.”

My heart sank deeper into my stomach.

It had been sinking farther and farther every time your name came up in conversation.

I reflected back on the past few months I had spent without you.

Countless friends pulled me aside at parties

at concerts

at school

everywhere I went.

Every person said the same sentence, give or take a few words.

“I’m so sorry about how it ended with you two. You were a great couple. There was a lot of love there. Let me know if you need anything.”

Everyone knew within the first week.

I was afraid to leave the house

Because I knew your name would pop into conversations and I’d shrink back into a miserable state of half hearted explanations to put the nosy ones at ease.

I had slept in another bed.

In another room.

And hated myself afterward.

It was a few kisses.

But it validated all of my fears.

I was completely numb without you.

My lips were numb.

My eyes sank low and extravagant colors faded into shades of grey.

My heart began to dry up and flake away every time someone mentioned your name.

The old me had disappeared

She must have followed you out when you left.

 

Six Months Sober

“What do you mean she’s seeing someone?!” You demanded to a mutual friend.

“She’s started seeing this guy a couple months ago, and she’s pretty crazy about him.” Jason exclaimed, taken aback by the rash reaction.

“It’s only been six months. How can she be seeing someone else?” You asked, unconvinced.

“I’m not sure, dude. That’s just what I know.” Jason said honestly.

You searched through his social media profiles.

Your heart sank.

My heart had began floating again.

You had finally hit the wall.

The wall that is completely ruthless and watches with cruel eyes as you attempt to climb over it with calloused hands.

The wall we must all climb when we are grieving and ultimately healing.

I had climbed and conquered the wall months before.

You were just about to begin.

 

 

Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

Photo Credit: Alyssa Jiosa

Okay the title may be a little aggressive

But it’s meant to come across as urgent.

Because you need to just freaking say it.

Immediately.

Like right now.

Do you not know what I’m talking about?

That thing you’ve been dying to say for the past month, year, decade, entire life?

Those words that have been slowly rotting inside of you desperately trying to claw their way out of your mouth and into the world?

Still not catching on?

Okay, well let me tell you some stories that will clear things up.


My sophomore year of college,

I went a little…

well…

Crazy.

I was struggling with some pretty violent mental illnesses that devoured my ability to empathize with other human beings.

I had an immense sense of pride.

Several people chose to walk out of my life around that time because they weren’t able to handle my negativity or aggression.

I was impacting them in extremely hurtful ways.

I was toxic.

But I couldn’t admit it to myself.

ME?!

TOXIC?!

No way,

I was perfect.

I had never done anything wrong or purposely hurt someone in my entire life.

Everything was about me and my well-being

No one else’s.

Looking back on it now, I realize that I wasn’t trying to hurt these people that I loved so dearly.

I just wasn’t in the state of mind to admit that I was wrong or unhealthy.

I demanded support without giving any back to them in return and it was unbelievably frustrating.

My stubborn little head could not wrap itself around the fact that I could be

Potentially

Maybe just a little bit

Wrong?

In turn, the consequences were absolutely disastrous.

My loved ones were dropping out of my life like flies

And I couldn’t stop it.

Or wouldn’t, I should say.

Because now thinking the entire situation through up, down and sideways,

I could’ve stopped it.

By admitting I was wrong.

And I could’ve actively tried to mend these disintegrating bridges by swallowing my misplaced pride and telling these people just how much I loved them and that their relationships meant way more to me than a stupid, popular blog or my newfound proud reputation.

It’s a lot easier said than done, though.

I’ve been given the very fortunate gift of new relationships and friendships that completely changed my way of thinking.

When the time came and fights occurred with these loved ones,

They always reached out

Called me at 4am,

Wrote me a letter,

Knocked on my door at 3am,

Just to say sorry and tell me that they loved me.

It shattered my beliefs.

Because I appreciated it so much when they showed me how much they cared and that they were willing to bury the hatchet while I was running around with said hatchet and actively destroying my relationships.

It all taught me something very, very important.

Sometimes it’s okay to say “I’m sorry” first.

It’s okay to say “I love you and you mean the absolute world to me” first.

It doesn’t mean you’re weak or admitting defeat.

It means you’re choosing love over pride.

And trust me, love will make you MUCH happier than pride.

I chose pride over love my sophomore year and it ate at me slowly and relentlessly for years.

I thought about it constantly.

I’ve had nightmares about that time in my life that leave me sobbing in my bed in the middle of the night.

And sitting in my bed in a pathetic little heap of miserable-ness didn’t make me feel very proud

Or loved.

I made the wrong choice.

Pride is never greater than or equal to love.

So now I’m here to tell you,

You don’t have to make the same mistake I did.

If you’re in a fight with somebody you care about immensely but neither of you will just lay down your weapons for 2 minutes to apologize and hug it out,

Be the first to just freaking say it.

If you’ve spent the past three years completely in love with someone who doesn’t know how you feel because you’re terrified it could end your friendship and ruin everything,

Just freaking say it.

Because who knows what will happen and even if the feelings aren’t reciprocated, at least they know there’s someone in the world without a selfish bone in their body who loves them unconditionally. It is an absolute honor to be loved by you.

If you’re afraid to speak out for something you believe in because you’re afraid of being torn down by the masses and it’s caused you to sit in uncomfortable and unbearable silence,

Just freaking say it.

A mob with pitchforks and torches will most likely not show up at your house.

(If they do though, pls don’t hold me responsible. I’m just an emotional blogger who doesn’t know anything)


It’s never too late to make amends.

It’s never too late to tell someone you love them.

And it’s never to late to admit that you’re wrong and apologize.

Even if you’re not wrong, apologize.

Because is your pride really worth losing one of your favorite people over?

The answer is no, by the way.

So just freaking do it (as Nike says).

Just freaking say it.

 

 

facebook – Becca Tremmel

instagram – @littlelionbecca

twitter – @littlelionbecca

 

“So… how have you been?”

Please say anything but “good.”

Please for the love of God.

“Good.” you said, hesitantly

dammit.

“Oh great! That’s… wonderful.” I said with a sigh.

The tension started bubbling up as we said nothing for a minute or two.

Should I just give him the letters? Maybe I should wait… He may not want me anymore.

“Well… we should probably talk.” You said, defeated.

And that was when I knew that no amount of pleading or convincing would keep us together.

You had already given up.

And at that point.

I did too.


 

Five Minutes Sober

 

“We’ll still be friends, don’t worry.”

I nodded.

You handed me my favorite pair of shoes and I placed them on top of my car so I could hug you goodbye.

This was it.

You pulled me in one last time in that bear hug and it took everything in me not to collapse on the ground in a pathetic heap of mangled emotions.

“Take care.” You said as you let go and began walking towards your jeep.

I carried myself to my front steps and watched  as you drove away.


 

Three Days Sober

 

“I don’t want ANY of it anymore! I need it out of my goddamn house! I need to burn everything he ever touched!”

I screamed while pacing around my room and restlessly throwing items into a box

My roommate sat on my bed and her eyes followed my pacing.

“Oh honey, you’d have to burn the whole house down.” She said quietly with a hint of humor

“FINE. WHERE ARE THE MATCHES?” I threw up my hands in complete defeat.

“Okay look, calm down. Maybe just bring the box to his house?” She suggested with raised eyebrows.

“I am in no state to drive.” Tears stained my face and I couldn’t stand still without falling to my knees.

“Maybe Michael can drive you?” She said, nodding.


 

It was pouring as I walked out of my house.

I stared down at our entire relationship that I carried now in a single box.

My face was flushed with tears as I looked up at my friend, Michael running from his car to me

Grabbing the box from my shaking hands

And placing it in his car.

We were both soaking wet when we got in the car

Michael turned to me playfully and said,

“Alright, so we’ll drop off this box on his porch. But we could also leave a bag of dog shit with it as well.”

I laughed half-heartedly and turned the face the window.

Preparing myself to walk up your front porch steps for the very last time.

 

Three Weeks Sober

 

“Thanks for coming over.”

I was shaking.

“I just really needed someone here with me, I think. Just was not in a good mindset.”

An old friend whispered in my ear as I lay in his bed.

What was I doing here?

A constant stream of thoughts flowed through my head at an anxious pace.

You’re no longer the last person I’ve kissed. You would be so upset if you knew where I was. How can I possibly give myself to this person when all I want is to be with you?

I just want to be with you.

“Are you alright?” He asked curiously.

His arms wrapped around my waist and squeezed tight.

“I’m fine.”

All feeling had left my body.

My eyes stared blankly at his wall in the moonlit room.

The numbness had finally overcome me.

I wondered if you were in another girl’s bed right now.

I wondered if you felt the same numbness I was feeling.

Or if you were happier without me.

Please don’t be happier without me.

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

It’s raining harder than it has in years.

The city is asleep as it prepares for another hectic Monday morning.

The pavement glows underneath her as she runs from her car to his doorstep.

She’s breathless

A ball of anxiety

But pounds fearlessly on his door anyway.

Minutes pass as she stares at the ground and bites her lip.

Finally, he pulls open the door.

Shocked.

They haven’t spoken in several months.

But months of silence couldn’t suffocate the four years she’s spent completely in love with him.

Should’ve known better.

She thinks to herself in hindsight.

They stand in complete silence.

Until finally,

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

Silence.

Her eyes slowly lift to meet his.

Those perfect, innocent green eyes that have kept her mesmerized for years.

This is it.

They’ve never kissed, surprisingly.

She thought about kissing him every day for four years.

This is it.

This is it.

This is it.

Her mind trips over itself thinking and re-thinking over every possible reaction he could have.

This is it.

She loses eye contact with him when she closes her eyes and inhales the last breath she will ever breathe not having kissed him.
This is it.

All she needs is ten seconds of blinding courage

This is it.

Her legs carry her to him with wavering confidence

This is it.

And she places her hands on either side of his puzzled face

This is it.

And pulls her lips to his

This is it.

And the past four years of frustration,

Anger,

Depression,

Guilt,

And heartbreak

Slowly melt away

Drop by drop

With this one kiss.

The kiss we’ve all been waiting for.

And everything that has bruised her,

Stung her,

Left her broken on the bathroom floor,

Or helpless on her knees

Suddenly all made sense.

Because all of those moments

Brought her to this moment

With him.

And she decides that she would live through those painful moments a thousand times over

As long as they always ended right here

Right now

Her lips on his.

His heart against hers.

~One Month Before “The Break”~

 

We were so close.

Lying together in that same bed.

But I had never felt further away from you.

“Please, just tell me what to do.” you panicked.

“I think I’m having an anxiety attack, babe. Tell me how to make this better.”

You pleaded breathlessly.

I was facing away from you on the other side of the bed.

Letting my fingers dig into your blue comforter as I sighed with a hint of annoyance.

“Just… breathe.”

Your breath shallowed and I heard whimpering for the next 15 minutes.

Then silence.

A sensation of overwhelming guilt flooded over my body like a blanket that threatened to suffocate me.

I was in no place to help you.

But I felt a more powerful feeling than even guilt in that particular moment.

Unwavering anger.

I was pissed.

Pissed that you had broken my trust a month prior.

Pissed that I felt on edge with every girl you shook hands with.

Pissed that I was so pissed.

I wanted to love you unconditionally and hold you close and help you steady your breathing and tell you over and over and over again how wonderful and talented you are.

How incredibly special you are to me

But I didn’t.

Instead,

I fell asleep.

And that hideous memory is seared into the back of my mind.

I have never been more ashamed of myself or my actions than in that moment.

For someone who preaches constantly about love, understanding, patience and forgiveness,

I was being cruel.

The visual of us lying there while I cold heartedly held my pride instead of you rarely leaves my conscience.

I am so sorry.

I will always be sorry.

 

~ One week before “The Break”~

 

We drove in your car and got hopelessly lost on the backroads around your new house.

We were laughing and singing “Tear in My Heart” to each other after discovering an adorable French restaurant near your new home.

I was still broken.

We were still broken.

But drop by drop I was feeling the blind rage leave my body,

Slowly but surely

I began to think to myself,

Maybe if I just say something new, something really emotional and future-oriented, he’ll feel special and loved by me once again.

Maybe that will be what fixes us.

Looking back on that impulsive thought, I should’ve put much more intentionality into what I said next,

“I think you may be the love of my life.” I blurted out.

Because I now know that I said it out of fear of losing you rather than actually meaning it.

“I could really see forever with you.” I pushed further.

Silence.

Wide-eyed

Panicked

Agonizing

Silence.

Oh. Shit.

Wow um… babe… that’s… really sweet of you to.. err… say.”

We were still endlessly lost and looking for your house.

And in that moment, I realized we were on a dead end road.

 

~The Break~

 

We sat parked in my driveway for 6 minutes before you answered my question.

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” I begged.

“I have a horrible pit in my stomach and I know something’s wrong.” I kept pushing.

I was always pushing.

“Whenever I feel the pit… something is always wrong…” My words trailed off as I gave you time to respond.

6 minutes of silence.

“I just don’t think this is really working.” you half-whispered.

Ouch.

“Okay… why do you feel that way?” I said, already knowing the answer.

“Because it’s just not.” you snapped.

You took a deep breath, squeezed the steering wheel, and let your eyes drop to the floor.

“Maybe we need a… break?” you said, admitting defeat.

Tears streamed down my face.

I never believed that you would actually give up on me.

I never thought I’d live to see that mortifying moment.

“If that’s how you feel. How long would this.. um…”

I choked

“… break be?”

You paused for a second and cocked your head to the side while looking out the windshield.

“Well… how does two weeks sound?”

I wiped my cheeks and quickly opened your car door.

“Okay, sounds great. Talk to you then.” I panicked.

I shut your car door and started running towards my house

Because falling a part on my driveway didn’t seem so… nonchalant.

And my pride begged me to come off nonchalant.

“Wait, babe.”

You had gotten out of your car and you looked so helpless with those arms falling so heavy against your sides.

“What does this mean?”

Your voice cracked.

I stood there frozen.

And we just stared at each other.

I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to run back into your arms and beg for you to forgive my daily angry outbursts.

Or if you wanted me to just cut the chord right then and there so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation a second time.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“I don’t know.”

And I turned around and walked into my house.

That definitely wasn’t the right response.

I slid onto the floor and felt the weight of a two ton truck sitting on my chest squeezing every last bit of oxygen out of my lungs.

After a few minutes past,

Your car door shut .

And then you were gone.

 

~The Breakup~

 

Sitting on my front porch, I contemplated what I was about to say to you;

How I was going to beg for your forgiveness,

How I was going to give you the 14 letters I had written to you everyday while we hadn’t spoken,

How I was going to ask for my favorite pair of shoes back.

I went over every possible conversation we could have

And how I was going to finally swallow my pride for the first time in my life

And just desperately ask you to stay and work on this with me.

I could do it.

Probably.

I looked down at my phone to check the time.

4:50pm

You’d be here in 10 minutes.

My eyes looked at the sky and I finally just started praying.

I prayed for wisdom and for overwhelming peace with whatever decision we would make together.

I prayed for you to feel respected, loved and understood during this conversation we were about to have.

I prayed for God to just take control of everything and to just give me the words I needed to say in order to successfully make it through this talk.

Then I thanked Him for bringing us together.

Because despite what was about to happen,

I was completely in love with you.

And you were the best boyfriend I ever had.

And that was definitely something to be thankful for.


Your jeep pulled into the driveway.

The car door opened and I saw your face for the first time in two weeks.

You shaved.

Our eyes met briefly before they fell to the ground and you began walking on my lawn towards my front steps.

My heart tumbled into my stomach and I crossed my arms so you wouldn’t see how badly my hands were shaking.

“Hi there.” I said nervously, as you walked up.

Crap, I hope that sounded confident.

You stopped a few feet away from me and stared at me curled up on the steps.

Hands buried deep in your pockets.

“Hey.”


 

 

Thank you for reading,

Becca Tremmel

 

Facebook –  Becca Tremmel 

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m not sure who the eff “he” is.

He could be your ex,

He could be some guy you’re crushing on hardcore but don’t want to overwhelm with your feral emotions,

He could be your boyfriend who we’re currently mad at because he did that annoying thing again,

Or your mailman.

For whatever reason,

You don’t want to call him.

That’s fine. I’m sure there’s a good reason.

I got you, girl.

Whoever he is, here are 55 things to do instead of calling him.


1. Go on a hike. The fresh air will do ya good.

2. Call an old friend who you haven’t talked to in over two years.

3. Paint your nails a crazy color

4. Take a nap

5. Drive to a neighboring state and spend the day exploring

6. Read a self help book

7. Write your own self help book

8. Adopt a pet and then cuddle with it

9. Grab some margaritas with your bestie

10. Learn how to play the harmonica

11. Watch every Lord of the Rings movie plus the bonus features (that’ll kill about 15 hours)

12. Drive around your town blasting the full “1989” album plus those bangin’ bonus songs

13. Plan a birthday party for a friend. I don’t care if it’s six months in advance or if you only know her though math class.

14. Throw caution to the wind and re-download Tinder

15. Hate yourself after receiving your first “send nudes” message and then re-delete Tinder

16. Or send nudes. You do you.

17. I lied. Don’t send nudes.

18. Go to a shooting range and take some shooting lessons

19. Write a strongly worded letter to congress about a current issue/law that pisses you tf off.

20. Watch clips from the Teletubbies and re-discover how effing creepy those things are

Teletubbies-371606

Good. Bye.

21. Create a workout schedule that’ll give you a bangin’ bod

22. Pick up some extra shifts at work

23. Or apply for a job you helpless, unemployed potato

24. Look up the sound frogs make when they’re afraid and laugh (Watch this)

25. Look up the sound zebras make and be as confused as I am (BUT WHY DO THEY DO THIS)

26. Get a haircut.

27. Delete random pics on your phone that are just taking up space (maybe delete some pics of him while you’re at it)

28. Learn how to cook

29. Cook something

30. Clean your apartment

31. But really, clean your apartment… It’s getting bad.

32. Get distracted while cleaning and look through the crap people wrote in your high school yearbooks

33. Stalk people from high school on Facebook.

34. Write a letter to him

35. Then set that shit on fire

36. Make a pinterest board with just pictures of baby animals

37. Take the Myers Briggs test. You’ll be entertained for at least two hours, I swear.

38. Create a blog !!!!!!

39. Cry yourself to sleep because now you’re just an emotional, oversharing blogger just like me

40. Go to a coffee shop

41. Join farmersonly.com just because

hqdefault

#YouDontHaveToBeLonelyAtFarmersOnlyDotCom

42. Buy succulents and up your #aesthetic game

43. Start learning French. Bon Chance!

44. Read the bible (we all need to at some point)

45. Plan a weekend vacation

46. Figure out what type of tattoo you’d get if you were ever brave enough to get one

47. Screw it, get a tattoo

48. Maybe download Bumble instead of Tinder. I only want what’s best for you ❤

49. Find your old Gameboy Advance and play your favorite game

41X3B28XR7L

Gotta catch ’em all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

50. Start a new hobby

51. Make a list of the top 10 places you’d love to visit

52. Decide what your favorite song of all time is

53. Try eating a really healthy dinner #kale

54. Give up and order pizza (maybe you’ll find love with the delivery guy)

55. And if all else fails and you’re about 3 seconds from calling him, just toss your phone off a bridge. That’ll DEF keep you from calling him.


 

Good luck, girl. I believe in you.

Love,

Becca Tremmel

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

I’ve never been one to speak openly about my Christian faith.

I’ve always been terrified of judgment and ridicule.

I’m scared of people reading what I have to say only to point out my past sins while exclaiming, “Yeah, you must be a VERY dedicated Christian.”

The truth is,

I am flawed.

I have a terrible potty mouth.

I’ve gossiped about people who I don’t know personally.

I’ve gossiped about people who I know extremely well.

I’ve even keyed someone’s car before.

I am completely flawed and I surely don’t consider myself “role model” material.

But I do know a little bit about suffering and how it’s ultimately brought me closer to God.


These past six months have kicked my ass.

(Excuse the language. We went over this. Flawed)

I was positive that I wasn’t going to graduate college due to my every present procrastination and lack of motivation all last semester,

I lost my sweet kitten days after my graduation,

I almost lost my own life in December due to a serious infection that left me in a hospital bed and incapable of breathing on my own for weeks,

A very important relationship in my life came to a screeching halt,

Many of my close friends have packed up and left for the summer or for good,

I’ve showed my music to some noteworthy figures in the music business and most of the reviews were very discouraging. One even used the words “bland” and “uninteresting,”

And finally, some of my past mistakes have come back stronger than ever to haunt my present.

Like I said, I’ve been a mess.

But I’m not here to complain.

Because I’m aware that I’ve lived an extremely comfortable life in comparison to many other people in this world.

And I try to thank God every single day for the little blessings He’s put in my path over the past 22 years.

I am unbelievably lucky.

However, I believe it is very easy to lose sight of all you have to be thankful for when you’re sitting in bed at 3am bawling your eyes out over your current suffering.


In the past, I’ve turned to some unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with my suffering.

My sophomore year of college I abused prescription drugs just to cope with the crippling depression I used to suffer from.

I used to root my self confidence in guys and how they treated me. I found self validation in whoever I was currently dating at the time.

I would try many strategies out before finally turning to God.

Whenever I found myself curled up on the floor crying myself deeper into this endless pit of suffering, I’d call someone.

I’d distract myself.

And I’ve been very blessed to have people in my life who have answered those desperate phone calls.

I did everything I could possibly think of before finally admitting defeat and turning to God for help and wisdom.

And every time I did, He saved me.


In the past six months, I have been given every reason imaginable to turn towards unhealthy coping mechanisms.

But I’ve done my absolute best to straighten my aim and walk on the clear path with God even when I had temptation calling out to me trying to coax me back into the woods.

It sometimes feels impossible.

Suffering is something that every single person in life will have to go through. If you’ve never suffered before and your life has been just butterflies and butterscotch popsicles, just you wait. It’s comin’ for ya.

We will all have hardships and we will all be brought to our knees at some point where we are faced with a decision,

Will we remain on the floor?

Will we turn to a terrible habit that will leave us further in the dark?

Or will we bring our pain to God and ask Him for help and wisdom?

It’s much harder than one would think.

It’s not easy to give up everything and do what God asks you to do in order to fulfill His plan.


And many people have asked me or brought up a question that I’ve thought a lot about recently,

“Why does suffering exist? If God is so good, then why does He allow us to suffer?”

And here is the answer (definitely still underdeveloped and definitely one that will not satisfy everyone) that I’ve come up with,

Although suffering is miserable and even horrifying sometimes, we would all be very weak and close minded individuals if no one had ever been through something worth suffering over.

Suffering is absolutely necessary. It is all a part of the human experience. As human beings, we have free will.

I can gossip and say hurtful things about someone that could leave them crying on their floor.

I don’t believe I’m walking with God when I make that decision.

However, even when we do end up in a pit of suffering I believe God can make something absolutely beautiful out of it.

I have never felt more connected to a human being than when we have bonded through a suffering experience.

There is no greater tool when fostering genuine human connection and love than suffering.

When large-scale tragedies occur and we’re all left hopeless, we do not walk away and leave the suffering to feel unloved or unworthy.

Most people come together and express their love towards people who they may not even know personally.

I think that is so beautiful.

And I know I am young, flawed, and I have the rest of my life to think about the answer to that question, but that’s what I got so far.

So if you’re suffering right now, just know that I love you and I’m rooting for you 100% and God is, too.

 

 

Love,

Becca Tremmel

 

facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

 

    • The cafeteria will suck. You will eat most of your meals there freshman and sophomore year, so make sure you buy some hot sauce or something so you don’t get ridiculously bored with your food.

    • Don’t start dating someone your first week of school. Just because you met someone through your incoming class’ Facebook page doesn’t mean you’re meant to be.

    • Actually just don’t date anyone at all your Freshman year. You got more important stuff to do.

    • Buy a planner and start organizing your social life, classes, sports practices, etc. immediately when you get to school because it gets really overwhelming really fast and time management is key in college. Most of us don’t even figure it out until we’re juniors.

    • Parties are fine, but not every night. You don’t want to lose track of why you came to school: to learn.

    • Live on campus as long as possible because as soon as you move off it becomes ridiculously difficult to stay in the loop with what’s happening on campus. Also rent effing sucks.

    • Build relationships with your professors. They’re really cool people and they just want to help you be successful. Also, having good relationship with a professor may be the difference between a B+ and an A- when finals come up.

    • Speaking of finals, they’re not as terrible as everyone says they are. You spend the week studying and finishing up end of semester projects. If you keep on track through the whole semester, you finals week won’t be spent catching up on late projects and papers while bathing in coffee and tears.

    • Dating is fun, but if you’re attending a small college, keep in mind that you will see them LITERALLY everyday. And if you break up, you will still see them LITERALLY everyday in the halls or at social events. Yay.

    • Find your favorite coffee shop early on because you will be spending approximately half of your college career there doing homework and maybe you’ll end up like me and start working there.

    • Joining the Greek community is a blast and it can be really beneficial. You can make lots of connections that you can utilize once you graduate and are trying to find a job. Also, you’ll probably meet your best friends through the Greek Organization you joined. That’s what happened to me 🙂 (who run the world?!)

    • Break ups are the actual worst. You will most likely suffer through a heart shattering break up in college, but that’s okay. It makes you a stronger person and you’ll learn how to focus on homework through blurry eyes and while on a strict cookie dough only diet.

    • Your friend group at the beginning of Freshman year will be completely different by the time you graduate. There may be one or two people who stick with you for the full four years, but people change a lot during college and your friendships with people will come and go. It happens.

    • The sophomore slump is a real thing. Trust me. If there’s a counseling service at your school, don’t be afraid or embarrassed to use it. The counselors are there for a reason and they want to help you help yourself.

    • Find a church. You’re gonna go through some tough times and attending a church can really help you through any difficult experience even if you’re not religious.

    • LEAVE CAMPUS. Go explore the city you’re living in now! There’s so much more to your college years than what’s happening on campus. Also, networking and developing relationships off-campus can help you get an internship and even a job once you graduate (cha-ching)

    • Getting a job can help you manage your time easier. You’ll be forced to do homework at certain times because you won’t be able to while at work or in class. It helps get your butt into gear.

    • Try your very best not to burn bridges. The people you meet at college will most likely be around all four years, don’t create enemies your Freshman year because they don’t just disappear. They go to your school and you’ll see them all the time.

    • Be prepared to switch majors 2 or 3 times. No one knows wtf they’re doing. Or what they want to do. Most of my class still doesn’t know wtf they’re doing and we’re at the end of the line. So you got some time, kid.

    • Enjoy your last few home cooked meals before you move off to college because you will miss them like no other when you’re staring at the slop on your cafeteria plate 3 times a day for two years. #BoneAppleTea 🙂

    • Call your friends from home often because it is so easy to lose touch when everyone goes off to college. You’ll probably fall out of touch with a few friends but that’s okay. Remember to keep cultivating the ones that really matter to you by calling and writing them often.

    • Don’t break the university’s rules. If they don’t want alcohol or drugs kept in dorm rooms, don’t keep alcohol or drugs in dorm rooms. Drinking may be fun, but getting kicked out of school is not.

    • And Finally, appreciate every new year and don’t take these amazing years for granted because I remember walking into my freshman dorm room and meeting my first roommate (who is still my closest friend) like it was yesterday. Now, I’m graduating and these four years have flown by faster than I can even begin to describe.

 

I hope that you feel a little more prepared to attack this whole “college experience” thing now with some of this bangin’ advice. Remember to stay true to who you are and what you believe in, but don’t be afraid to completely reinvent yourself either. You’ve got this!

 

 

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facebook – Becca Tremmel

instagram – @littlelionbecca

twitter – @littlelionbecca