i am (transparent).

I have long aspired to write a blog. I follow a many of blogs and consequently carry on imaginary friendships with the girls whom I follow-- I know their dogs' names, what their last #ootd was, and creepily could pick out their wedding pictures from a line-up. My love of blogging transcends to my Pinterest page, to my Instagram feed, and obviously my Bloglovin' account. My husband used to curiously look through pictures as I scrolled through my Instagram feed and wonder who these unidentifiable people were and the cause of my fascination with them; however, he now too knows them.

So, why the fascination and why am I now entering the blogosphere after years of blog loving?

Because social media is a scary thing that beguiles onlookers: I choose what others see, I choose to include the good and omit the bad, I can fool others into thinking I have it all together on even the ugliest of days. I am unlikely to post a picture of my new decor when my apartment is in havoc or to show off my outfit when I am wearing sweats. I am not pointing fingers at anyone, but I will be the first to admit I am quick to cover up my flaws (and MAC is not the only culprit). I am a private girl with walls sky-high. Even the closest of my friends do not know many obstacles I have faced until much later in our relationships (if ever-oops) and I would hide out in a bathroom for hours on end, rather than let others see me cry. I cannot create a 140-character response to explain this phenomenon. My privacy issues or trust issues or playing-it-perfect issues are much deeper than a trite response, but this blog is my way of accepting grace. As I have grown in my relationship with Christ, an ongoing source of pretending to have it together (fyi: my quiet-time box has not been checked off yet today) and now, as I embark on a new journey as a wife I realize the absolute need to be transparent. Caveat: If you are planning on getting married, transparency evolves quite rapidly. No snotty nose unheard and no embarrassingly holey leggings unseen. More so than that, I crave transparency for accountability. Transparency to gain trust and give trust. Transparency to accept I am flawed, yet loved, cared for, and sought after by a King who is bigger than my imperfections.

This year, I vow to not only be more transparent, but also to strive to find worth in Christ alone. Another scary and overwhelming characteristic of social media is the desire for instant gratification. 2013 will forever be the year of me posting too many engagement pictures, too many wedding pictures, and the like. Those life-altering events were well worth the likes I received, but I didn't need a notification to affirm me. I find delight in the approval of others liking, loving, and commenting on these precious moments, but this year I plan to put my phone down much more, close my computer more frequently, and allow my dependence on Christ to define me. 

I follow the bloggers I follow and obsess over their Insta feeds and like their idealistic lives because I admire their transparency--but really, how transparent are they? Once again, I am not accusing others of a flaw that might be solely mine to own, but I resolve to use this blog as a space to be real. I want to encourage others in the only way I know how: you are not alone in your search for belonging and accepting your flaws, even on the ugliest, snottiest, and ungraceful of days.