I grew up with my parents supporting any new endeavor I wanted to achieve. When I was five, my mom asked me, what exactly it is I wanted to do. She told me that she would put me in singing lessons, dance lessons, piano lessons. Anything I wanted to learn. I chose to partake in piano lessons. Growing up, I loved music. My dad would play guitar and would sing and I would try to remember all the lyrics, so that next time I could sing with him. (My favorite, "Sweet Child O' Mine) So as I started this journey in piano lessons, it was challenging, but my mom taught me that there was never something too challenging to achieve. She would attend my piano recitals, support me, and most of all, make me practice. I grew out of piano and became tired with it, for now that is.

My mom and dad were there for me on my next journey, softball. Let me tell you, I was "the burden" to the team. That was, until my parents pushed me to practice. Sundays after church, we would go to the optimist park, my brother, mom, dad, and I, and practice all things softball: hitting, running, and catching. My biggest issue was batting. I couldn’t hit a ball if it was the size of the sun (not literally, but close). They took me to batting cages, and tried everything they could for me just to hit that stupid, yellow ball. One thing seemed to work though. It was the verse my mom taught me and inscribed in me. Philippian's 4:13 reads: "I can do All things through CHRIST that gives me strength." In short, I came from the very bottom of the batting list to one of the top batters and later that season I even went on to play with the All Star team, but that’s another story.

In fourth grade, I towered over everyone. I hated it. I was the tallest girl in elementary school it seemed like. My mom said she liked it because she could find me so easily. Everyone would ask me when they met me, "Do you play basketball?" My answer was always "No" until one night I received a super, awesome text message from one of my buddies from school. It read: "Do you and your cousin want to play basketball this season with us? You wouldn't have to pay, we need more people on our team." You could only imagine my excitement. Finally, I was going to play basketball (Thanks for changing my life. You know who you are!). I played basketball all the way up until my Sophomore year of high school, where I played on the Varsity team. Unfortunately, it began to no longer be any fun for me. Once again, my parents loved to watch me play, but understood my heart was no longer in the sport.

Art was something I always knew I wanted to do. I knew it ran in the family, and I just loved the fact that you can just put some paint on a paper and it could be a masterpiece (Never let anyone tell you that you are not an artist. That is simply untrue and inaccurate). My parents gave me a huge art kit years ago for Christmas that has everything you could dream of in it. It had chalk pastels, charcoal sticks, charcoal pencils, colored pencils, and graphite pencils. I'm talking everything. I loved it and have kept this gift in great shape to this very day. My parents attended my first Art Show with me in my hometown, went to my Art Show Awards Ceremonies, and have given me my greatest feedback.

These were just a few highlights of my journey. I did pick piano back up later and taught myself chords instead of reading music. My dad bought me an oldie goldie piano from one of my good friends that was moving, and I am ever so grateful. My dad also taught me guitar and, after several attempts and misfires, one day it clicked. And here I am now, blogging about my life and things that I think are important. This is something I have always wanted to do. I cannot thank my parents enough for their unconditional love and support throughout these years. Thank you for the lessons you have taught me, and the lessons that you have let me learn on my own. I wouldn't be who I am today without you old fellers!