A Hot Mess

Today I read a blog all about getting rid of labels. I've been meaning to write more on this blog... I just never seem to have anything to blog about that But I decided to jump on the weekly writing prompt bandwagon.
Here's the prompt: "We’re inviting posts from voices everywhere to share your labels and who you are beyond that. The focus is whatever you need it to be– from our lives as moms, dads, parents, spouses, professionals, survivors, athletes and more. We invite you to join us, to celebrate our strengths, to celebrate our diversity, to celebrate our      voices and change the conversation."

Lately, I think the label I put on myself is that of being a Mess. I feel like I'm a mess. I pull it off most of the time. I go to work, I serve in the church, I even cook once or twice a month, I shower on a regular basis, On the outside I look like I'm holding it together, and I even have myself I'm convinced I'm ok... most of the time. But then there's a hitch in my day; unexpected things happen and I lose the ability to go with the flow, I stop being able to deal with it all. For just a few minutes (or hours) I feel like the girl who's whole life is a giant mess. As of late, the first things on my long list of everything that is wrong in life (that only really pops up when I'm freaking out) stem from my label as the following:

This one is hard one for me to deal with. I want so badly to be rid of this label, even though on it's own it is just a fact. My brother is gone and it's a fact I have to live with every day. Nothing is going to bring him back, and despite the fact I know I will see him again, and that he is safe and he is ok, the remembering of it makes my heart physically ache. It is what fills my thoughts, changing my perception of who I am and how I think other see me. It's not just those words that bother me. It's the ramifications of them. It's the realizations of what he'll miss, what we'll miss. It's seeing how it's changed me and changed my family. (Not only in bad ways, but in good ways too.) It's all of it neatly summed up in one little label.

But I'm more than the girl who feels like a mess on the inside. (Despite the fact that the outside looks pretty put together most of the time.)

I am the girl who loves her family.

I'm the girl who juggles two jobs.

I am the girl who is on time.

I am the girl who, when she has time, makes amazing food.

I'm the girl who goes grocery shopping for her roommate when she has a giant paper to write.

I am the girl who is capable of conquering just about anything.

I'm the girl who has her father's voice in her head.  

I'm the girl who is proficient in the use of power tools.

I'm the girl who's great at planning.

I am the girl with the best/worst dating stories.

I'm the girl who thrives on change and new adventures (despite the trepidation that comes along)

I'm the girl who knows what she believes, lives it, and relies on it when things go wrong.

I'm the girl who's hilarious when she's on a roll, and who thinks she's hilarious when she's not.

I'm the girl who can't go more than a few days without talking to her mommy.

I'm the girl who can ask for help when she needs it, even though she hates it.

I'm the girl who still sleeps with a teddy bear, who loves her nieces more than anything and still calls her 13 year old sister baby.

I'm Emily. And no matter how hard yesterday was, I am enough. What I can do today is enough, and maybe tomorrow it'll be more, but for now, even with my cried off makeup, bags under my eyes and second day hair, I am enough.