You're Not a Number.

Dance season. Two words I pretty much dreaded my sophomore year of high school. It was an awkward thing really, the whole asking and answering game, the girls flipping out to find the craziest dress imaginable, and of course, the date.

But in all reality, I wouldn't have minded. I didn't really mind. I think it was more the incessant asking of, "Oh have you been asked yet?" "Nope." *Cue awkward silence, and Marissa cheesy smile*

My sophomore year, that's pretty much all I heard. "Have you been asked?" "What are you wearing?" "Who's your date?" It just got to be all too much of a...numbers game.

I don't think I would have minded if my thoughts were somehow focused elsewhere. Haha but I was pretty known to be a "tough girl" around those guys...(guess that's just something that comes from having 5 brothers!) I didn't get asked to every high school dance, at first it was hard. Then I realized something.

Marissa, You're Not Good at Math Anyways.

I never could really understand why it mattered so much to me if I was asked or not my sophomore year--probably because it mattered to everyone else. Logically, it didn't add up to me. "I'm a girl, you're a guy, you need a date, let's go." Haha then one day it kind of hit me like a ton of bricks: "Marissa you should probably be nice to them..." (Like what?!)

I mean, I'm probably the only Asian you'll ever meet that's terrible at math. But it took me a while to add it all up,
-Talk to the guy
-Be nice to the guy
-Don't call the guy a doofus (even if he is--that took me a while to figure out)
-Maybe guy will ask you out?

That last one was the toughy. I'm way too much of a logical person to think things through without blurting them out. (Believe it or not, there was a time that I was a shy human being--yes I'm laughing too.)

Homecoming Senior Year-I went by myself and took pictures with Ace for the school newspaper. We rocked it. And I got fries afterwards. It was awesome.  

You're Not a Number.

Then again, I got hit with a ton of bricks with a sudden realization. Marissa, you're not a number. You're not the number of dates you go on, the number of dances you attended, not even the number on a scale. You're just not...a number.

I imagine when Heavenly Father was creating us as who we would become, that He didn't just consider us a number to get off the checklist of all His children He had to create. I imagine He took His time. I imagine that He looked at us, and took every heartache, sorrow, and sadness we would feel, and give us a talent or gift to make up for that. I imagine He would know the insecurities we would feel in this life, and taught us, told us, and showed us before we would come how special and unique we were individually. 

I believe I'm not a number. I'm certainly not the number of dates or dances I went on in high school. (You really do find happier things in life than that.) And despite what the world, or even smelly Satan might tell me, I'm really not a number on a scale. I'm not a number. I'm me, Marissa Barnes. I'm terrible at math, a lover of french fries, I have an obsession with watercolor flowers, and foxes. I'm more stressed than I have ever been before, but I'm so happy!!! I'm happy knowing that I'm not anything the adversary would try to make me believe. (Because he's a peabrain anyways!)

And my ladies in high school, you are not a number. You are not a number of dates you go on, you are not the number of dances you get asked to, you are especially not a number on that piece of metal you stand on. You're more than that. You're you. You're uniquely you! So before you let high school get to you, don't. (Especially high school boys!)