Aaand we're off to Kenya!

Friends! Today is the day. We're heading to Kenya!

I feel a bajillion things - nervous about not talking to my family, so excited to meet the Kenyan kids, incredibly grateful that this trip worked out for both Chris and me, eager to see where we are staying, nervous about what will happen with The Letter Project...

In a nutshell, I'm scared and excited. :)

I once heard someone call the mix of scared and excited "scited" and I totally agree. I've found that, in life, the intersection of these two emotions is often where I need to be. It's typically a place where my faith grows and my heart softens. So here we are, scited and headed to Kenya!

Before we go, I have a few orders of business:

1. My blog will continue to be updated. I wrote posts ahead of time and hope you will still read while we are gone. If we have internet, I may post some updates while we're there, too. We don't know if we'll have access to it, though.

2. Bearing that in mind, if you are a Letter Writer or submit a Letter Request while we are gone, there will likely be a three-week delay. Without knowing exactly how much internet access we'll have, I don't want to over promise. As soon as we return, I will get caught up on all things Letter Project!

One of my biggest fears of the trip is that the The Letter Project is going to lose steam while we're gone. I know the Lord called us to this trip, so I am doing my best to rest in His assurances that it will all be OK. Buuuut that is a little easier said than done :) 

3. If you are a robber reading my blog, we have someone staying in our house, so don't even try to break in and steal anything. 

:)

But seriously. 

4. More than anything, we would absolutely love your prayers while we're gone. If you're up for it, we'd love for you to pray for:

> Safe travels - especially through Istanbul and Nairobi
> That The Letter Project won't lose steam
> That we can connect with the people we meet and love them well
> That we can be open to what the Lord is teaching us through this trip. We are in the process of making a lot of big decisions and Chris and I are both really hoping this trip provides clarity or bravery or direction. Or all of those things! Or really anything.  
> That I can allow my faith + trust to be bigger than my anxiety

Thank you so much for your prayers, love and support. I cannot tell you how much they mean to me. You all are carrying us! 

See you in a few weeks! 

Thank You, Thank YOU

On Saturday, I hosted a fundraiser for The Letter Project. What I learned through the process is that asking people to come to your house, volunteer for your cause and - wait for it - pay to do it - is a super, duper vulnerable feeling. You're asking people for time, money and energy all in one fell swoop.

As I opened my front door Saturday morning and was greeted by smiling woman after smiling woman - many of whom I did not know - I was almost brought to tears. Some people came alone! To a random house in Atlanta! That is so brave. Some people brought friends! They not only supported the event, but helped spread the word. That is so amazing. 

I realized that this week, on Friday, it will be exactly four months since I launched The Letter Project. One third of a year has already gone by, which feels in.sa.ne. This project is nothing (literally. nothing) without the support of other people. I feel completely overwhelmed by the way so many of you - from strangers to family and everyone in between - have supported me through these precious, incubator days. I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has helped me along the way. 

(And yes, if I were to win a Grammy, this is really similar to how my acceptance speech would go.)

Thank you to all of you readers:

Thank you for reading my blog. Thank you for believing I could add value to your day. Thank you for sharing my posts. I had no idea that, when I started blogging in 2008 (about basically nothing), it would become a launching pad for this project and would lead to so many amazing friendships and internetships. Thank you for challenging me to reflect and grow. Thank you for teaching me the discipline of consistent writing. Thank you for your emails and comments. Thank you for coming back to this space again and again, reminding me that somebody out there is listening. 

Thank you to The Letter Project writers: 

Thank you for using your own time, energy and postage to bring light, love and wisdom into this world. Thank you for giving me feedback. Thank you for consistently signing up to write to our sweet recipients. Thank you for inviting your friends to write and for growing the project. Thank you for sneaking extra stamps into your bundles for me. Thank you for sending items off of our Amazon Wish List. Thank you for the care packages full of stationery and love.

Thank you, most importantly, for caring about girls you don't know, simply because you're a good person who cares about other people. That kind of generosity warms my heart in the deepest way. 

Thank you to my friends:

Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for the pep talks. Thank you for caring about this cause, not because you necessarily care about it, but because you care about me.  Thank you for signing up to write letters. Thank you for being on my emergency writing team. Thank you for your donations. Thank you for hosting Write Nights. Thank you for the care packages, which have brought me to tears and reminded me that, even though some of you are far away geographically, you're still beside me. Thank you for loving me and supporting me.

Thank you to my family: 

Thank you for loving me through one of the most vulnerable seasons of my life. Thank you for letting me talk about The Letter Project constantly. Thank you for writing letters when there were not enough volunteers. Thank you for donating. Thank you for encouraging me to quit my job, even though I didn't totally, exactly have a plan. Thank you that, whenever I ask you to do anything, you say: of course! Thank you for letting me run ideas by you 24/7. Thank you, also, for giving me ideas to make this better. Thank you for spending part of your Christmas break bundling letters.

Thank you for being proud of me. Most importantly, thank you for being the type of people I want to make proud, because you always make me feel proud of you.

Thank you to Chris:

Thank you for doing everything above (literally everything. Except for writing letters). Thank you for being my business partner and barista. Thank you for letting me talk about The Letter Project when we're lying in bed and eating breakfast and making dinner and on road trips and, well, constantly. Thank you for teaching me Excel and streamlining my processes and helping cut ribbon. Thank you for challenging me to think big and keep going and to take deep breaths.

Thank you, most importantly, for being the type of man who believes in, not just me, but the power of women everywhere. 

via An Abundance of Katherines

10 Things I Want You to Know

For many years, when people asked me what I blog about, I'd pause before jumbling together a few words about 20-somethings, Atlanta and relationships. They'd walk away and I'd stand there, wondering what the heck I actually did write about and why I couldn't explain it with more conviction. 

In retrospect, it's kind of symbolic for my 20s in general. I knew, mostly, what I stood for and believed in, but, sometimes, when people who ask me to explain it, I'd get a little jumbled up. I'd get turned around and, after they'd walk away, I'd find myself wondering if I really knew who I was. 

Now that I'm 30 (and almost a half!), I feel so much more secure in, not only who I am, but what I write about. In case you're new around here or have forgotten:

I wanted to remind you of a few things I hope you, dear reader, know, believe and feel when you read this blog:

1. You are enough RIGHT NOW

Not when you lose five pounds. Not when you get a better job. Not when you have a boyfriend. Right now! Right, as you are, in this moment. You are enough. You don't have to strive to be better. You are already enough. So you can stop hustling. You can rest here. 

2. You deserve a relationship with good, gentle love

You deserve to be with someone who is kind to you. Who is gentle with your heart. Who pursues you. Who treats you well and loves you as you are. And, the person you're with deserves the same thing. Love is gentle, safe and reciprocal. It is not conditional. If the relationship you are in is not safe and kind, it is not healthy. And you deserve a healthy, whole relationship. Don't settle. 

Pst: I love this simple illustration from Brené Brown about what love is.

3. You don't have to be perfect

Perfect is an illusion. It's a lie. I hustled for WAY too long trying to be perfect when, as it turns out, being the real version of ourselves is so much better. Perfect is tiring and boring. Also, it doesn't exist. Don't buy into the lie. 

4. It's OK if you don't know what you want to be when you grow up

As humans, we're constantly changing and, hopefully, growing. If you wanted to be one thing a year ago and this year, it isn't sounding so good, that's OK. I think sometimes people forget that most of us will work for the next 40 years. Take your time finding the right path. Make changes, turn left when you thought you might go right. Don't put so much pressure on yourself to know right now what you want to be. It takes time and you don't have to be in such a hurry to matter. 

5. Your worth is not in question

It's not in your work. It's not in what people say about you. It's not in how much you accomplish or how well liked you are.  It's not in the trips you take or the ring on your finger.

Your worth is inherent because you were designed to exist. You don't have to prove anything. You don't have to hustle anymore. You are already worthy of love. 

6. You are going to be OK

Even if everything is a nightmare right now. Even if it feels like you've lost yourself. Even if you're not sure how to put the pieces of your life back together. I've been there. It hurts. It's scary. But you can do this. You are resilient and you are brave. I believe in you. 

7. Kill your dreams

Remember when you were eight and you thought you'd be married by 22 and have two kids by 27 and you'd all sit around the dinner table in your fancy house laughing and smiling at each other every night? Kill that dream.

Remember when you were 15 and you thought you'd be the youngest person to win a Nobel Peace Prize? Kill that dream.

Remember when you were 20 and you thought you'd have an amazing career as a surgeon and own a house by 30? Kill it. 

Kill it not because you can't make your dreams come true. You can! But kill the timeline. Kill the idea that you should be doing something by a certain age, because a younger version of yourself said so. Do your best. Work hard toward your goals. But don't let some fake timeline become the noose that makes it so you can't even appreciate the beauty of the season you're in now. 

8. Self-care is not selfish

You only get one body. You only get one brain. You only get one soul. Be a good steward of these things. Set boundaries. Make time for rest. Go to the doctor when you are sick. Sleep. Exercise. Respect your body and mind. Listen to what they need. 

And, if that feels selfish (*it's not*), remember this: when we care for ourselves better, we are able to love others better. When you are spiritually, emotionally and physically able, you can care for the people you love more wholly. 

9. You are welcome here 

Even if you don't believe what I believe. Even if you are struggling with the things I talk about. No matter who you are, you are welcome here. 

10. Breathe

You are loved. You are worthy. Take a deep breath. Right now. Seriously take a breath. In and out really slowly. Every day, keep breathing. Sometimes, remembering to take deep breaths is the hardest part of all. 

On Being Brave

My brother brought home puppies this week, and, if you know me well, you know I'm not an animal person. I'm more of a love-them-from-afar girl, instead of a let's-snuggle-in-my-bed girl. But! These puppies stole my heart and completely ruined my productivity for the week. My friends were texting asking if it was really me in the picture, cuddled up with tiny labs. It's me, guys! 

Yesterday, I pupsat while attempting to work, which really just meant I held them, stared at them and obsessively checked to make sure they were still breathing. My sister said it is similar to what it will be like when we one day bring a baby home from the hospital. :) 

A few months ago, I started practicing feeling sad for the first time in my life. Sadness isn't something I easily access. I'm not comfortable with the feeling, it overwhelms me and I tend to push it down and ignore it. Why be sad when you can be happy, right Joy!?

But, after a lot of reflection, I realized that by ignoring sadness, I was stifling my other emotions, too. You can't embrace the depth and breadth of joy (or any other emotion) if you're squelching a primary feeling. The less I allowed myself to be vulnerable to sadness - the really painful, hard kind - the less I was able to experience joy - the really abundant, elated kind.

Over the course of a few months, I started practicing sadness and yesterday, as I watched these tiny puppies whimper and shake, clearly missing their mama, I felt sad. A few months ago, I would have thought: Whitney! You're not even an animal person. This is dumb. They're fine. Separation is natural! But yesterday, I didn't do that. I felt sad and, as I sat there alone, I cried for these tiny puppies. And then, I cried for all of the real babies who are abandoned by their mamas. And all of the mamas who have to say goodbye to their tiny babies without wanting to. I didn't kind of tear up. I cried and cried - multiple tears coming out my eyes at once. When my brother came home, he probably thought I'd lost one of the puppies. Or my mind? 

As silly as it sounds, as I sat there, allowing myself to cry, I encouraged myself by repeating: Be brave. Stay in this moment. Feel the sadness. Be brave enough to experience this moment.

Sometimes, I think we get a little confused about what being brave means. A few months ago, I would have said being brave was taking a deep breath and putting a smile on my face while playing with the puppies. Lately I've learned that, in this very moment, it was braver to let sadness overcome me. 

From time to time, I get Letter Requests from women who are writing in on their own behalf. They know they are hurting and they need extra love and support from other women around the world. Every time, I'm blown away by how brave they are. There was a period in my life when I would have called that weak. Now I know it's not even a little weak. Self-care is brave. Advocating for yourself is brave. 

Sometimes, bravery is big adventure and leaps of faith. But other times, bravery is staying in the moment and being vulnerable to how you really feel, not matter how hard it may seem.

Yesterday afternoon, as I went about the rest of my day, I noticed how elated I felt. I was cleansed. I'd lightened my load. Joy was back, because I wasn't afraid of the sadness anymore. I was reminded then, that sadness doesn't last forever. Sometimes it lasts a lot longer than we want it to. But, it isn't forever and, when it goes away, the joy is so much better.