When I was a very young girl, I always chose the side of justice. If you steal, you deserve jail time. If you can't support yourself, then get a job and work harder. It was that simple for me. I didn't have any cares in the world. I had two loving parents who had devoted their lives to making my life a dream. I got all the presents I wanted, I was always told I was perfect and there wasn't anything I couldn't do. And I believed them. My father was on the fast track to a life of luxury, and I had no idea what hard life was like.

And then my Dad got cancer.

I was so little I still don't realize the emotional toll two rounds of serious cancer took on my parents. I didn't realize my father could die, and that that meant my way of life was over. I remember when I was little, I would watch the movie Air-Bud. In the movie the main character's father dies. After the movie was over, I would just sit there and try to imagine being like one of those families. What if my Dad died? It was so painful for me then, that I knew Heavenly Father would never do that to me. Little did I know that Heavenly Father had something very similar in plan for my family and I.

Even after my father got cancer my life changed very little. My parents did their best to make sure that I was always taken care of. I knew my family was struggling big time financially, but that was an adult problem.And I literally believed my parents could do anything. They were, and still are, my heroes. There is nothing they couldn't do. I still got all the stuffed animals and Barbie Dolls I wanted at Christmas, so everything was good.

We moved from Washington, and it was hard at first. I missed my Grandma Deanna, and the rain, but life was good. My dad had a wonderful job, my mom was happy, and we were ALL cancer free.Life was so simple for me. I went to school, I ate lunch. I came home, did my homework and pretended to be Pocahontas. Truth is I still pretend to be Pocahontas. The hardest thing in my life was that my parents wouldn't let me go to Ryan Draper's birthday party because I wasn't aloud to hang out with boys yet.

A few months later, my dad was murdered. Then I realized that life can actually stop sometimes. My life as i knew it was over. For good. No more daddy's girl. or daddy daughter dates. Or deep conversations. Or talking about my goals and dreams, and how far I could go. No more helping with math homework. Or talking about when I would eventually make it to BYU. It was all over. I still  can't think about it, because I cry. I'm crying now, obviously. I'll never get to share our BYU together on this Earth. I would never see my mom as happy as she could be,  again for the rest of my life. I would never see my parents together again. Or my family whole again. We were broken. I was broken, and its the kind of broken that you can't fix.

This was heart wrenching in more than one way. My best friend. My rival parent. My coach. My support team. The guy that smiled, and giggled, and teased, and tickled. He was all gone. The guy that pushed me to do my best, further than anyone else ever could. My motivation was gone. I didn't just lose one person. I lost many people. It broke me. I can still remember my mom telling me at the temple that my father was gone from this Earth physically. I can still fell the blood curdling scream shaking my whole body. I didn't understand.

Numb.

Numbness is the best word I can use to describe the next year of my life. Nothing was colorful. Everything was grey and covered in tears. I now realized what it would be like to be the boy in air bud. I sobbed because my 17 month old brother would never know his amazing father. He wouldn't know a mom who loved passionately and deeply, and was happy. My siblings and I would never be normal again.

We moved past it. That's all you can do. There is no way to 'get over it.' A part of me will always be broken and gone, I have learned to live with a mended heart. Each of my family members turned to their own mechanisms of coping. I turned to two main things. The hatred of God and anger.

The year following my father's murder, I hated my heavenly father. I wanted nothing to do with him. I blamed him. I wanted to make him feel as bad as I felt. I hated all the happy church people at church. Telling me that everything was going to be okay, and that they understood my pain.

No one understood my pain. I was eleven years old and I had to suddenly say goodbye to my childhood. just like that I was an adult with more responsibilities than most kids my age now even have. I was the oldest. It was now my duty to help raise my siblings. They didn't have a Dad, and I had to step up and help my mom out.

I eventually realized that it is much easier to cope with a father's murder when you aren't pushing your biggest advocate away.I finally understood that the savior knew exactly what I was going through. Because he paid for my sins. He took that pain and went through it for me and with me. Once I figured out that the blame game was going to get me no where I prayed. I relied on God. In the end, along with family, it's what got me through.Even though I had walked back over to Heavenly Father's side, there was still so much I had to deal with. I know a lot of people think they know me and my problems, but the truth is I never share what's real with me. It's easier to put on a facade, and play a part.

I still constantly struggle with the loss of my father and I will talk about it again in this post and in future posts. I talk about it now as a joke, but I really do love my dad. I have issues with him, that I am still constantly working through, but isn't that what life is about?? haha yes. the answer is yes.

 I became a champion of the underdog, because I knew what it was like to be the underdog. In high school I tried to fit in and say or do anything that would make me one of the in kids. Unfortunately that wasn't the case. Once I realized that some people were always going to be Jack Ass' I tried to change the way I viewed other people who were different from me.

I remember one time I was walking down the hallway with one of my best friends from high school. One of the cool poly football jocks came running past us. It was a friday, and we all know how teenagers suddenly find loads of energy on friday right after the last bell rings. Well, I guess this kid was making his way out to the parking lot, when he saw another kid, a kid in my grade, a kid I had grown up with. This kids name was Jake (changed for privacy) he was kind of a nerd, and he had his science book open and was reading it as he was walking out of the school. This jock kid came by and slammed the book out of Jake's hands. Jake swung to grab it and his glasses knocked off and he fell to the ground.

I was kinda stunned by what had happened. I had had a few unpleasant run-ins with this jock kid before and I was not a fan of his. I was going to walk past. The friend I was with, it looked like she didn't even notice. It would have been impossible not to. I saw this kid, and then I remembered. I remembered how many times someone had made me feel the way he felt now, and how I had wished that someone would have stood up for me, but no one ever did. I chose right there to walk up to the kid picked up his book and helped him up. By that time I was angry. Angry for me and for Jake. I marched over to the jock and yelled at him. I yelled and just let this kid have it.
What kind of person does something to someone else that makes them feel less than human. No one has that right. NO ONE. I told this jock that he needed to apologize, and that he seriously needed to grow up. I was so scared to death that this guy was going to call me out, or start making fun of my weight. But he didn't he just sat there and looked at me.

Then he walked away. I probably flipped him off, because I do that sometimes. But after starting to walk back with my friend, I noticed the jock walk back to the kid and apologize, and they shook hands. And from then on I realized that if I could stand up for someone it might make a difference. I realized that no matter how cruel and malicious human being can be, they can also be amazing beautiful kind and loving beings too.


It took more than one experience to realize that, and I've had a thousand more since college started. But the biggest thing from my life that I want to emulate is:

As of late I feel like Facebook has turned into an arena where people post controversial posts to get a rise out of their friends. I feel like this happens to argue the "my brain is bigger than your brain" argument. Also I've notice specifically in my social group, that when people post an opinion that everyone doesn't agree with,  they are made into the devil. I saw this specifically with certain recent issues with the LDS church and my member friends. I saw an extreme amount of backlash towards those who posted things about supporting the LDS prophet, Thomas S. Monson, in regards to Kate Kelly and the Ordain Women movement.I saw it happen in reverse as well. I will not post my opinion about that here because that is not what this is about. I feel like no one can say anything without having the PC police jumping down their throats making sure that what they say doesn't hurt ANYONE's feelings even 0.001%. It's ridiculous, there will always be someone who gets offended by what you say and disagree with you. That doesn't mean you should stop sharing your opinion. There is a difference between being ignorant, offensive, and bully-ish, and just stating a controversial opinion. That is why I made this blog. I want to post my opinions, regardless of it's popularity, without 13434 people jumping down my throat about my insensitivity, or my ignorance, or my lack of experience in the "real" world. If you'd like to read my view of the world, great! Read it, post a comment, even tell me if you disagree, and why. I love debates, but if you are going to condemn me because I don't feel the same way as you do, then don't bother. Name calling, belittling, and forcing your opinion is not going to work here.

That is all.