stop and smell the roses

Like

I’m in the likey mood because I’m posting things that are real and my real friends are saying things that are real. I’m all about being real and living life to the fullest in my eyes. Not in anyone elses eyes. I do what I do for myself and no one else. Love me or hate me, but I never judged you did I? If I did, then I apologize..I never meant to. You can choose how to live your life and I can choose how to live mine. If you think my life is so bad, then quit being my friend. I hate to say that because losing a friend is so hard. SO hard. I have lost friends to so many things, now including death. I would not want to be on bad terms with anyone that I really care about and something terrible happen to them. I would never forgive myself. But really, if you have a problem with something about me then talk to me about it. Not everyone in your contact list. Me. I may not see it as a problem like you do, but I’ll listen. I would not blow you off. I am very open to opinions and ideas. Just be real with me. I’m not into fictional friends. =/

I can’t believe

How weird it felt to graduate. and how good this day has felt! It really has been amazing and I am so thankful for all of my friends and family that could be a part of it. I’m free. I have the entire world ahead of me!! :D

Dear World,

So take me as you find me, all my fears and failures.

Love,

shelby lynn miller

my life be like ooh ahh!

Some people don’t seem to understand whats Im up to but that is because they jump to conclusions. Im not pointing fingers or assuming what their reasoning is. Im just saying that just because Im not going to church twice a week means nothing about what I believe in or what I do with my life. I believe in God. I don’t however, believe everything “the church” teaches. In general. Not just the church that I go to. I think a little differently and interpret things differently apparently but I cant pretend Im someone Im not anymore. Its time Im myself and I live for what I believe in. That is what I have been doing and I have been so happy. I would hope that the people that mean a lot to me would understand and still be my friend, but I just really cant expect it these days. Once I think that someone is one way, they turn around and are the complete opposite. Its hard to trust words these days, only actions, so that is what I am doing. Im focusing on living in such a way that makes me happy. A way that I dont forget who I really am and what I believe in. I want to explore new things and learn about everything while still being me! :)

Thank you to everyone who has not left my side through any changes I have ever gone through no matter how many times I have changed. Those are my real friends. 

hush little baby

(I wrote this a couple moths ago, adding on a few times)

It’s December 30, 2009; also known as 46 days before I turn 18 years old. My name is Shelby Lynn Miller and the last time my dad and I were together, I was 9 months old. Since then I had not seen or spoken to him until October 13^th of this year, 78 days ago. In that time I have learned a lot about him and even myself.

I hope that every single person in my life will read this; therefore it will be bias and only include the positive stuff that I want to talk about. I accept that there is more to some of this, but what isn’t said can’t hurt anyone. I have a very simple family and life story except the polar opposite. I guess it’s always kept me on the edge of my seat, if you want to look at it that way.

Growing up, it was my mom giving up her dinner in order to keep my older sister and I fed. She sacrificed a whole lot in order for our family to survive. There were men that entered and exited our lives, but she never once put anything or anyone before her children. That’s a dedicated proud parent and others could learn from her in that aspect. Anyways, as I became older, naturally I wondered why everyone I went to school with had dads to celebrate Father’s Day with and I just made crafts for my grandpa.

I don’t remember being told about the situation with my dad. I was surely told long before I understood what it really meant. As I grew up and became more aware of my life and its contents, I started to ask about my dad and display interest in meeting him. My mom always told me he moved around too much and she couldn’t find where he really lived. In middle school, his cousin was my bus driver and my mom gave him a school picture of mine. I recently found out that he gave that picture to my dad who lost it in one of the hurricanes down south. My mom did find my dad’s mother though, my Oma (German) and I was in Louisville staying at the nunnery for a weekend when she first called me. That was a surprise. I met her and my dad’s sister with my mom, close to Louisville the next weekend, June 20^th. This was weird for me because they knew me but I did not know them. I was just a baby when they had seen me last. And now there I was…17 years old. I can’t imagine being in their shoes either. Their son/brother was my dad. His 17 year old daughter was sitting in front of them. 117 days after I met his mom and sister, my dad messaged me on Facebook. I could not believe my eyes. I had never felt like that before. And I never will feel like that again. My own dad. Who I had never had any contact with that I was able to remember. Right there on the other side of the computer screen. Sitting in some unknown place typing these words directed towards me. His daughter. My father’s daughter. Me.

Though I had wondered about my dad for so long I don’t think I ever really thought it was realistic that I would ever talk to him or meet him. Maybe it has still not sunk in that I have a way to contact my own dad now. My very own birth father wants to meet me. I never considered, either, the fact that when I was looking for him, what if he didn’t want to find me. Maybe he didn’t want me at all. I couldn’t believe how lucky I am that he wants me. He wondered about me. He cares. That’s the least I could ask for.

After a lot of tears shed between the messages my dad and I sent back and forth, we concluded that I was not going to hold a grudge and that no matter what, I wanted to meet him. If I don’t do this, I’ll spend my life wondering about him and what would have happened if I met him. I won’t stand for that. I’m meeting him. I’m going to meet my father that hasn’t seen me, his daughter, since I was 9 months old. I’m almost 18 now. I wonder how he pictured me before he saw recent pictures. I pictured him EXACTLY like the pictures I have of him; how he really looks isn’t much different, just naturally older. I’ve been told so many times that I look exactly like my dad. I like that feeling. That was how I held onto him when he wasn’t there. I’m tall, like my dad. I have big hands, like my dad. I have big feet, like my dad. I have curly hair, like my dad. I have facial features that resemble my dads. Genetics are pretty cool and I was glad I skipped out on some of my mom’s features, no offense, in order to have some of my dad’s. That connection was something that couldn’t be left behind without a bunch of reconstructive and plastic surgery, which I wouldn’t even begin to consider with these variables.

“From: Dad

RE:|

‘I have this locked. Soo cool.

——————

Is this my dad?’

Nov 8, 9:59 pm”

This text from my dad telling me that he has the first text I ever sent him locked in his phone….is locked in my phone. I find it exciting how much he likes and cares about that text. I’m his baby girl and there we were texting each other.

My dad told me he followed a Greatful Dead tour one year. Yeah. That’s my dad. Following a tour is definitely something I would do and a lot of people could back that fact about me up.

There is a corner in my room dedicated to those 90’s photographs I have of my dad. There is one with my mom and dad together and my moms smoking a cigarette and my dads drinking a beer and they are looking into the sky at what I was told was one of the space shuttle launches. There is another that is just my dads lap and me as a baby laying in it. I tried to draw this for him. I’m not good at drawing features that really show a certain person, but I tried and I actually think my dad will like it. I think my dad loves me and that he would like whatever I make. He may not find it a ‘good’ piece of art…but he would like it because his baby made it.

Last night, January 1, 2009 I found out that my dad’s birthday is the 5^th of this month. 4 days away and I’m glad I knew before it passed so that I am able to say happy birthday to my own dad. I’m looking forward to this. He told me that he knew my birthday is February 13^th. I feel like I have found that he has thought about me and everything in the past 17 years a lot more than I had ever even imagined or hoped for.

Sometimes, people make mistakes. Sometimes, that one mistake leads to several others. Sometimes, you do one thing that you know you shouldn’t and it leads to doing other things you know you shouldn’t and you continue to dig yourself a hole. Have you ever said something and then right after you just kind of really wish you didn’t say it, therefore you say something else to cover it up and you just keep making a fool of yourself, or so you think. Well, sometimes that occurs involving actions. We have all been through it. Sometimes these things are a bigger deal than others. But I still believe in forgive and forget. Forget Regrets. We all deserve a second chance. No matter how undeserving we may find ourselves, I would hope that someone that meant the world to me would give me a second chance when I really wanted it, when I really needed it, and when it meant the most.

Three years ago, while I did what I did as a freshman in high school and such, my dad was living in Hope, IN which is only like 15-20 minutes away. I can’t believe he was so close. I have thought that I’ve seen him before, and always decided against it. Yesterday at work as I was walking down the main hallway from the tower back to the call center, I saw a tall man in the distance and thought it was my dad for a split second and my eyes turned to waterfalls. I think it might have slightly been my imagination but it was a weird feeling.

Today at a family Christmas gathering with my sister’s dad’s side of the family, my sister’s dad’s sister asked me about my facebook friend with the last name Miller. I told her it was my dad and her and my sister’s dad’s other sister were very surprised. They told me their memories of him and one of them told me how hansom he was when she knew him. They were so happy for me, and talking about the whole ordeal I couldn’t stop smiling during the conversation. I love how happy people are for me because it lets me know that they understand the situation which means a whole lot to me. I don’t mean that to sound selfish or boastful in any way.

I picture the day I meet my dad sometimes. My friend Jared that I have known for about 4 years and has been like a brother to me said that he would be there with me when I meet him. That means a lot to me because I don’t think this is something that I can do alone. I need a lot of support through this. Its huge. I guess this is a good time to throw out there that real friends rule. When you find people who are your real friends, you’ll know it. They wont only call you when they want to party, you’ll feel like you can call them at any time, they will support you and/or at least accept you through ANY decision you make, they will never abandon you for any reason, they will always surprise you in how well they treat you and the things they do for you, they’ll remind you how much you mean to them all the time, and they will never intentionally hurt you, even if its just for a laugh.

I wish I could type here about my history with friends but I don’t want to put anyone down in any way in this particular piece, so I’ll stay away from that but I think knowing what I’ve been through could help someone. Maybe. Sometimes the people closest to you can hurt you the worst. Sometimes on purpose and sometimes unintentionally. Either way, it’s really hard to deal with and it’s really hard to let it go. Forget Regrets. Forgive and forget. Mostly forget regrets. That is something that I always try to keep in mind. It’s something that I always want to live by. Regretting something does not make it go away. It does not make it any better. It does not change anything. I believe that every single situation that we are put through and everything that happens…there is a lesson to be learned and without all of these things that we’re tempted to regret, we would not learn those lessons and what happened would happen eventually and will continue to happen if you don’t try to see what can be learned from every situation.

I’m tempted to regret, or rather wish, my life was different. What if?…That is the question. What if I had grown up with a dad. My own birth father. But also what if my sisters dad had never died. I wouldn’t be here. If I grew up with a mother and father both…how would I be different. I would have a different personality and outlook on life. Everything that happens in our life shapes us into who we are. I am content with who I am. There are obviously things that I want to change for the better, but I think I am truly blessed.

I find it really hard when I do something or say something that is just completely ridiculous and I want to take it back. As humans, we have a hard time admitting we’re wrong and therefore when we mess up, we dig holes rather than fixing what we did and apologizing if/where needed.

Tomorrow, January 5^th is my dad’s birthday. I have never looked so forward to telling someone happy birthday. I’m 40 days away from being 18 years old and tomorrow I will tell my dad happy birthday for the first time in my life. He has never had a birthday while he was a part of my life. Thinking about it gives me a great feeling. “Happy Birthday Dad” I’m smiling as I think about how each of us will feel in those few seconds. I like to make my dad smile. It makes a daughter proud when her dad smiles because of something she said or did. It’s a good feeling. I hope that when he receives the text that he is overjoyed.

I hope that people who have had their dads their whole life appreciate just how lucky they are. I guess that I should say people that have had both of their parents. There are a lot of situations out there with parents. Adopted parents. Just a mom. Just a dad. No parents at all. Etc. and different reasons for their situation (i.e. divorce, death, etc.) Everyone has their own story and I feel for them all though I may not be able to directly relate.

ill just say

im happy and im bummed. i feel awesome and im exhausted. katy perry didnt write a song about me, but im hot and im cold. somethings gotta give. i want change but im going about it in all the wrong ways. i just cant make up my mind. im so indecisive that its ridiculous and embarrassing. i dont really get embarrassed that easy. i may be bashful, but what other people think of me isnt high on my list. its what i think of myself and how certain things make me feel. not in a selfish way. but i care about my self and i dont want other peoples bias to cloud my vision.

this isnt going anywhere, but i should probably go refill my coffee cup, then dance or something.