You Are Beautiful, Day 30

If I could choose one topic that often goes ignored or when mentioned, is filled with doom and gloom, I would immediately choose the post-partum body.

Thanks to the rapid period of pregnancy with fluctuating hormones and weight gain, it's an inevitable fact that our bodies will change, in some ways permanently.

Women might feel dread as they read that sentence. Not only does it imply falling out of the social limits of beauty and losing control of our own bodies, but it also means shopping for new clothes that fit and look nice on us.

I can hear the screams now.

Some women take a stand. They might, for example, claim that they are going to avoid breastfeeding to avoid the sagging. (This has been proven ineffective, by the way. Pregnancy is what increases the risk of sagging. If you've already gone through pregnancy, might as well breastfeed to get some benefit for your body, besides your baby.) Or they might embark on numerous diets and exercise programs, even during pregnancy. Some even take on extreme levels of distance running, participating in marathons and triathlons. (This author warns against over developing certain muscles, claiming it leads to increased pelvic pain and increased birth interventions.) Of course, many women maintain a healthy, balanced view and exercise normally throughout pregnancy.

Lauren even ran a 3 mile before her c-section!

And some women take a seat. Don't be so quick to assume it's out of laziness! For many reasons, pregnancy can arrive with painful situations such as impaired mobility, joint pain and morning sickness. Goals to exercise go out the window, replaced with much smaller yet rewarding achievements, such as keeping food down or going grocery shopping. Society already bombards us with all the warnings about not exercising anyways, so I feel it's evened out in comparison to the links I provided earlier.

This back and forth has women confused. It IS, actually, presented somewhat as a debate. Should a woman accept her body as it is, stay where she is at and learn to love her body? Should a woman feel obligated to exercise and/or diet soon after birth until she has returned to her original weight/shape?

They seem opposed, don't they? And each one carries a nugget of truth:

First, we should accept our bodies. This means we should acknowledge where we are on the beaten path. Our journey right now, the way we are right now, is an experience, whether we like it or dislike it. Openly looking at our bodies and learning all we can about ourselves is definitely beneficial to our personal development. 

During pregnancy

After pregnancy

Nearing 42 weeks

One week after birth

The way our bodies change during pregnancy is amazing and complex. It speaks to deep power, strength and a primal call, saying life is going on; the world is turning. The way we look after birth can shock us, maybe even make us nervous or scared. We might want to ignore it, wish it away. We might even hate it. But, these bodies belong to us. These experiences are part of us. Like a contraction, we can choose to try to run away, or we can open our arms wide and feel it wash over us.

Second, we should respect our bodies. It's something moms need to hear frequently. We have needs, too. Our bodies are important, too. If mamas still shake their heads while reading this, then think of it this way: if you aren't healthy, that will impact your child, too. You and your baby deserve a healthy mama-body! You deserve to feel good, to look good and to achieve the right health and shape for you. This in turn will battle against depression and anxiety during and after pregnancy, assist with the baby's weight in utero and overall prevent or decrease the risk of complications and interference.

Eva is 8 months pregnant and nursing her toddler on a nature hike.

Getting in some exercise with a munchkin on the back and in the belly.

The way to resolve the seeming opposition between these two "sides" is to keep it personal. In other words, when you want to exercise (or don't want to exercise) what is your intention? Exercising and eating to feel happy, healthy and prepared for motherhood is going to put you on a balanced path. Exercising and eating to set a goal and feel the accomplishment or to keep you connected in a supportive community is going to benefit you. If your goals for exercising are not realistic and healthy, then the exercise itself will most likely become unhealthy.

Similarly, taking a good, honest look in the mirror to learn about your experience and to feel the inherent strength and beauty of your body is an indescribable step towards self-actualization. Seeing yourself completely, without wishing any different, is an acceptance that most people yearn for and never find. Recognizing where you are, where you want to be and finding peace in that will benefit you. If your goal is to hide from problems in your life or inner fears and feelings of inadequacy, then this process itself will most likely lead to unhealthy living.

To all the women out there, looking at their bodies in the mirror, smiling, frowning, squishing fat or flexing abs...You are beautiful, Mother. Vous êtes Belle, Mere.

Six months after birth, and after 2 c-sections.

One year after birth

Feeling accomplished after a race

After two kids

About 9 months after birth

About one year after the 2nd child, still nursing both.

And my favorite video that shows exercising as part of an intense journey of self-discovery:

To learn more about motherhood and to see more photos and read stories of women who have walked the journey of being a mother, please visit The Shape of a Mother.

Guggie Daly, a Catholic with crunch, seeks to promote the value of whole living, 

especially in the topics of conception, pregnancy, birth and early childhood.

A mama to three kids, she finds faith and reason belong together in the parenting topic 

and likes to connect evidence-based science with respect for the dignity of human life. 

You Are Beautiful, Day 29

You are Beautiful Post, Day 29 -- Mirror, Mirror.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Have I got it?

'Cause Mirror you've always told me who I am

I'm finding it's not easy to be perfect

So sorry you won't define me

Sorry you don't own me*

- Barlow Girl

Our society as a whole is saturated with this concept of beauty and how to improve what we see in the mirror. From shows like Next Top Model to the line of late night infomercials promoting Genie Bras and other similar products, it seems like everywhere I turn, I'm confronted with ways to make myself prettier, slimmer, more attractive. All battering away at my already chipped self-esteem.

Working retail has just brought this issue to my attention even more. Not only are teens and women dealing with this, but I'm watching it trickle down to affect little girls now. My store sells clothing for young girls that I would never dress a future child of mine in. One shoulder tops, bikinis, low rider jeans. It's one thing for a teenager or adult to wear these, but to dress a child as young as 5 or 6 in them?

If beauty is really in the eye of the beholder and that beholder is society, I, for one, am butt ugly.

Who are you to tell me

That I'm less than what I should be?

Who are you? Who are you?

I don't need to listen

To the list of things I should do

I won't try, I won't try*

Butt ugly? Why do I say that? Well physically, I'm about 100-110 lbs overweight, I'm covered in scars from head to toe, my hair is frizz central, and the list goes on.

Growing up, my issues with beauty started when I was about 11. That's when the early bloomers in my class started to develop, and the general focus shifted from having fun and playing, to gossiping and primping. Even at home I wasn't spared. I inherited my dad's large bone structure and as such I'll never be a size 2. Combine that with a weight problem and you've got one miserable preteen. My grandparents constantly criticized me, saying if I'd only put more of an effort into my looks, I could lose the weight. I tried everything, eating right, exercising, slim-fast. My weight yo-yoed up and down for most of my teen years.

And every time the scale moved up there came more criticism, and it was harsher each time. My appetite for food in general soured, and the pain and feelings of worthlessness increased. I stopped eating regularly; instead I'd have one meal, maybe two, just enough to keep my parents and grandparents from freaking out. But it didn't seem to help and I only hurt more. I started cutting to deal with the pain. Of course seeing the scars left behind only made it worse and I'd cut more. It was a vicious cycle and it always left me feeling like I'd never be pretty enough, never be good enough, never BE enough. This downward slide eventually led to a week long stay in a nearby psychiatric hospital, a diagnosis of severe depression, and intensive therapy and treatment.

Mirror I am seeing a new reflection

I'm looking into the eyes

of He who made me

And to Him I have beauty beyond compare

I know He defines me*

Ten years later, I am proud to report that I am happier and healthier. My depression is finally on the way to being permanently well-managed. The weight and eating issues have been conquered and the hidden hypothyroidism that caused the pounds to stick like glue has been diagnosed and is regulated. Which means the weight is, slowly but surely, coming off.

Sometimes I still look into the mirror and all I see is the double chin and abundance of dark scars. But then I think about Psalm 139 which I used to have taped up on my mirror (and in a wonderful coincidence was the psalm for this past Sunday!)

"You formed my inmost being;

you knit me in my mother's womb.

I praise you, because I am wonderfully made;

wonderful are your works!

My very self you know.

My bones are not hidden from you,

When I was being made in secret,

fashioned in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw me unformed;

in your book all are written down;

my days were shaped, before one came to be.

-- Psalm 139:13-16

How wonderful is it to know that our God who formed us from nothing thinks we're beautiful. He made us just the way He wanted us to be. That means He gave me my large bones and frizzy hair on purpose. But to Him, I'm still beautiful. I am wonderfully made in His image. Frizzy hair, scars and all. Society's image can take a hike. I am beautiful to the One who created me, and that's all that matters to me.

*All lyrics used are from Mirror by Barlow Girl.

Suzanne is a 20-something former Baptist turned 14 month old baby Catholic who makes rosaries, rescues abandoned kittens, and loves photography. She's a night owl who blogs about life, faith, and the pursuit of her next adventure over at Of Butterfly Wings.

You Are Beautiful, Day 28

“For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.”

“Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, it's at the end of your arm, as you get older, remember you have another hand: The first is to help yourself, the second is to help others.” -Audrey Hepburn

For my unexpected last post of this month on beauty, I've chosen to write about a topic that I believe hasn't been touched on yet: service to others. I don't mean this to convey the message that beauty is dependent on utility, because A) it's not, and B) that's cruel and demeaning. What I want to convey is that we spend so much time worrying ourselves- how we look, how we feel, what we want- that we occasionally forget to think about others, when it might be better to forget ourselves instead.

I know so many people who embody this virtuous forgetfulness, and I admire them all (going back to Day 2, beauty = that which we should admire), but I want to focus once more on my friend Quinn. I'd never thought about it or knew it, but Quinn was a prime example of someone who forgot himself in order to serve other people. He was a counselor at several camps helping children overcome challenges or become passionate about their interests, he worked at a nursing home where he was (no surprise) loved by all the residents, he went on marches for all sorts of different causes, and was forever trying to improve the lives of those around him.

In his eulogy, Quinn's mother wrote him a letter in which she told him "You have always been my most selfless child," and remarked that "You are forever emptying your wallet, and mine, and Dad's to give to those in need." When he couldn't give monetarily, he often gave of his time. He spent time in Ecuador (or perhaps Peru, I've forgotten) living with the poorest of the poor and helping them, and a little closer to home, he went on a retreat to an inner city to live like many of the poor residents there. Quinn didn't just want to help people, he wanted to sympathize with them.

If he couldn't do, or simply wasn't doing, those things at a particular time, Quinn was living out those quotes at the top of the post. He tried his best to see the good in all people, even if they'd hurt him. He tried to speak all the good he knew of everybody, and attempted to avoid saying bad things about people if he could. He was peaceful and joyful in his faith, and seemed to know that he was not alone in his walk through life, even when it was difficult. In February of last year, when he was home for a spell, he'd heard that a family friend had been diagnosed with cancer and wasn't faring well, so he wrote the friend a note reminding him/her that God was still watching, and that with time he/she would be able to pull through the treatment.

Quinn was educated by Jesuits for about half of his life, and their unofficial motto is "Men for Others". I think Quinn took that seriously, although as far as I know, he never seriously thought of becoming a priest. Without thinking about himself or calling attention to himself, Quinn went about serving other people to the best of his ability, whether or not he knew them, and almost always in situations where they couldn't pay him back. He did what he did out of genuine love, concern, and kindness, and in so doing made himself a beautiful person. As I wrote in my first post about him, there's a plaque in my kitchen that says "What you are it God's gift to you. What you make of yourself is your gift to God." In nineteen years Quinn made God a  beautiful gift of himself by forgetting himself for the good of others. He was an admirable person, and a beautiful one, too.

You Are Beautiful, Day 27

Though we may bestow the adjective of “beautiful” upon many different nouns, though we all have different ideas as to what specific things are “beautiful,” we all have one thing in common: we hold beauty to a standard.  We have certain criterion that things must meet to be deemed “beautiful” and if they do not measure up they are simply not “beautiful”.  The pageant participant is never given points for trying to get rid of acne; the soloist is never applauded for nearly hitting the proper note.  The author is never granted stars and good reviews for writing an almost touching love story.  No matter our personal idea of “beauty” we all have one thing in common: beauty is success.

This mentality is not abandoned when we consider the “beauty” of less mundane things—such as the beauty of the soul.  Internal or spiritual beauty is held to the same requirements as everything else.  We never call someone “patient” when they are merely attempting to be; we call them that when they have succeeded.  The sinner struggling to overcome pride and vanity is never called humble.  No one gets points for trying.  I have found this very depressing.

“Beauty is on the inside!” I have heard many people quip in order to comfort others who feel physically ugly; but if beauty is measured by success, have they not just forever ripped beauty from us?  They have merely exchanged one success for another, and the new one is much harder to attain!  Our standard for beauty leaves no room for mistakes.  And who is perfect?  No one.  Failure, weakness, and imperfection are most feared, and they are unavoidable. 

So, perfection and success are out of the question; the only thing we can ever be is perfectly imperfect…

…and that, I maintain, is the key to the greatest amount of beauty we will ever have. 

Gertrud von le Fort wrote a novel entitled “The Song at the Scaffold” which takes place during the French Revolution.  It is about a young girl named Blanche who from infancy suffered from debilitating anxiety attacks.  When she joins a Carmelite convent, she is met with a courageous group of women who want nothing more than to become martyrs for the Lord in those troubled times.  Poor Blanche does not have the strength or courage to handle even the idea of martyrdom, and ends up leaving the convent.  The story goes on to tell how she learns to accept her debilitating fear and how, in the end, that sacrifice was greater than the sacrifice of literal martyrdom.  I was very touched by the tale, and was left wondering how a weakness as great as Blanche’s could have such a beauty about it. 

The thing about Blanche is that she is perfectly imperfect, and she is well aware of the fact.  She does not strive for utter success; she did all that was in her power to be as good as she could be, but the rest she simply accepted.  She then did what few imperfect people do; she brought her weakness before the one person who could truly understand.  She brought her failure before the one person who carried all the failure of the entire world.  She gave herself—every blemished minute particle of it—to Christ.

Those things truly beautiful are those qualities and virtues which reflect the source of all Beauty—God.  It is difficult for Blanche to accept that she is not like her fellow Sisters, yet when she does so she bears her own personal cross alongside the Crucified Christ.  Pure perfection being unobtainable, she became perfectly imperfect and in doing so became as perfect as she would ever be.  Her weakness was beautiful with the reflected beauty of the Cross. 

We all have blemishes—physical, spiritual, personality-wise—that keep us from perfection.  Sometimes, it may seem that just as you obtain one virtue another vice is brought to light.  We long for complete holiness, to be one with God, to have great spiritual beauty.  However, our concupiscent selves always seem to be getting in the way of perfection.  Though this should be a cause of grief for us, it also presents us with a great opportunity.  Even as we grieve over our faults, Jesus on the Cross grieves over them with us.  We reflect Him in that moment as much as we ever will in this valley of tears.  The world tells us that beauty is success and perfection, and that may be so; but it is precisely in our imperfection that we are brought closest to Christ.  

Blanche would have never been able to unite herself with Christ on the Cross has she not had her own cross of imperfection to bear.  As hard as my cross(es) are to bear, as difficult as my imperfection is to accept, I thank God for the opportunity to unite myself with Him, and I pray that I can do it as well as Blanche. 

Tally blogs at The Hidden Battles, and is a member of CathSorority.

You Are Beautiful, Day 26

During my sophomore year in college, I worked in a Mexican restaurant.  Many of the staff were middle aged Mexican women who had immigrated to the United States with their families.  They had difficult lives and because of this were deeply knowledgeable about the ways of the world.  When the restaurant was slow, I enjoyed practicing my Spanish and getting to know them.  Once, I expressed to several of them my desire to get married and have a large family.  One of the women responded that she would pray that I would have many children and that they would all be boys.  She explained how difficult it was to be the mother of a daughter, to watch her go into the world and suffer the injustices and heartaches that are particular to women.  The life of a woman is filled with suffering and hardship.  I didn’t understand what she meant then, but now that I have a daughter of my own, I am aware of all that I hope to shield her from.  

I’m convinced that much of the hardship women experience is the result of society’s warped interpretation of beauty.  Every little girl desires to be beautiful, but when they seek beauty, they are not desiring to be physically attractive but to be interesting, worthy of time and attention, lovely, captivating, delightful.  But we live in a culture where beauty is nothing more than a commodity that can be bought in the cosmetics aisle or the doctor’s office, that fades as we age until its gone altogether, that can be bartered for attention from the opposite sex.  Even worse, this fickle and fading concept of beauty seems to be the main measure of a woman’s worth.  If a woman does not fit into the current fads and fashions that define physical beauty, she is relegated to a secondary role.  Yet, if she does meet societal ideals, she is treated as an object to be used, to be enjoyed temporarily before her beauty begins to fade.  Women, we are worth so much more.

When will she first feel she's not beautiful?

I look into the eyes of my sweet baby girl and I wonder how long I can protect her from this worldview.  How long do her daddy and I have to teach her that she is beautiful and a cherished child of God before someone tells her that she is not worthy because of her physical appearance?  Will it be long enough to instill in her an understanding of true beauty shaped by love, kindness, and faith?   

Mandi is wife of two years to David and mother to six month old, Lucia Rose.  She blogs about their life together at Catholic Newlywed.

You Are Beautiful, Day 25.5

(This was supposed to be posted on Day 23, but because I'm forgetful and silly, I'm posting it now. My deepest apologies to its author, Madeleine. I didn't mean it!)


I remember a few summers ago sitting in the Newman Center after dinner, just two friends and me. Our debate about the Blessed Mother had reached a standstill-- if Mary was born without sin and unfailingly did the will of God during her life, did it then follow that she was the most beautiful woman ever, inside and out? Did Mary have to be the most externally beautiful woman ever if she was chosen as the mother of God? Would God have made a woman ordinary looking or even ugly to be the mother of his Son to make a point about interior beauty being invisible but paramount? We never reached a consensus-- the grinder in the kitchen sink had stopped working and we put our heads together to tackle instead the pressing matter of washing the dishes.

I was reminded of the “beautiful” Mary debate a few years later when I wrote a term paper for a course on eighteenth century literature about Tom Jones, investigating the close relationship between outward physical appearance and internal character that was assumed in the 1740s when Henry Fielding was writing the novel. Fielding’s point that people make judgments about other people’s characters based on physical appearance is still unfortunately more valid than it should be; but the modern reader feels perhaps rightly skeptical of Tom’s assurance that Sophia’s beauty will be enough to ensure his future fidelity, and incredulous that she accepts his reasoning after evidence to the contrary. For the purpose of Fielding’s narrative, however, Tom and Sophia are both the most attractive and the most internally “good” characters, for all their faults and missteps during the story.

So, if we are to accept Fielding’s point that “beauty” and “goodness” are somehow related, but we are to reject the idea that physical traits exclusively express the “goodness” of a person, where does this leave us on the beauty question? Does this mean that the “good” person, the person whose heart is in the right place even though their behavior might not always suggest so, is also, in spite of their mistakes, the most beautiful person?

Edmund Burke, eighteenth century political theorist and philosopher, can help us here. In his work On the Sublime and Beautiful, Burke observes that beauty is “a social quality... [beautiful people] inspire us with sentiments of tenderness and affection towards their persons; we like to have them near us, and we willingly enter into a kind of relation with them, unless we should have strong reasons to the contrary” (Pt. 1, Sect. X). But Burke comes up short when he tries to explain this, remarking, “But to what end, in many cases, this was designed, I am unable to discover... though we cannot perceive distinctly [why] this is, as [the wisdom of Providence] is not our wisdom, nor his ways our ways”(ibid).

But we have the answer-- a soul, created by God, and living to fulfill God’s will, is truly beautiful. To apply this to Burke’s words, people trying to live like Christ inspire us with sentiments of tenderness and affection towards their persons, we like to have these people near us, and we like to enter into relationships with them. The most beautiful person, then, is not necessarily the one whose outward appearance is the most pleasing, or even the one who is most internally “good.” The most beautiful person is the person who can say with the most confidence and conviction, with Our Lady, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”

Burke also addresses the question of God’s wisdom. He’s right that we can never claim to understand the fullness of God’s wisdom. But one of my favorite books of the Bible is concerned with understanding and using the gift of God’s wisdom, spoken to us in the voice of King Solomon (and aptly titled, of course, the Book of Wisdom). It also speaks to us of beauty. “Therefore I prayed, and prudence was given me;” he says, “I pleaded and the spirit of Wisdom came to me,”

I preferred her to scepter and throne,

And deemed riches nothing in comparison with her,

nor did I liken any priceless gem to her;

Because all gold, in view of her, is a bit of sand,

and before her, silver is to be accounted mire.

Beyond health and beauty I loved her,

And I chose to have her rather than the light,

because her radiance never ceases.

Yet all good things together came to me with her,

and countless riches at her hands;

I rejoiced in them all, because Wisdom is their leader,

though I had not known that she is their mother. (Wisdom 7: 7-12).

We, too, should love wisdom “beyond health and beauty” because God’s wisdom is the source of these things. The “radiance” of God’s love “never ceases.” To love God is not just to have riches, temporal and spiritual, bestowed on us, but to know that He is the source of them. This knowledge, this wisdom, is what makes souls truly beautiful.

When do you feel most beautiful? When do you feel most able to magnify the Lord, to reflect the endless radiance of His love? I know that I feel most beautiful when I am serving others, whether it’s writing a letter to a relative who lost a son, or serving dinner at a homeless shelter, or even helping a lost tourist downtown find where they’re going. I feel most beautiful when I am using the talents God has given me to do something worthwhile, like getting a head start on my thesis research at the Library of Congress and taking notebooks of hand-written notes, going the extra mile at work and finding solutions to problems my boss doesn’t yet know about, or practicing music and trying to turn that talent into something others can enjoy.

At Christmastime last year, my boyfriend sat next to me on the piano bench while I was struggling through a difficult piece, and said quietly, “You look so beautiful when you are playing the piano.” It wasn’t because I was wearing nice clothes, or because it was a “good” hair day, and it wasn’t because it was his favorite song or that I was playing it particularly well. I think he said this because he saw God acting through me as I played the piano. I think, maybe, for a moment, my soul “magnified the Lord.”



Madeleine is a graduate student at University of Saskatchewan. When she's not in the library reading naval history journals, you can find her blogging about baseball, politics, God, and the adventures of an inside-the-beltway Washingtonian in Saskatoon at By Western Canadian Standards.

You Are Beautiful, Day 25

I’ve always had a hard time thinking of myself as “beautiful”. Sure, my fiance says I am, my mother says I am, even random pins on Pinterest say I am.. but I still could not believe it (and I still struggle sometimes believing it).

I had always struggled with my weight. It likes to yo-yo, so at times I could gain 40 lbs and then lose 20 in a few months. It is absolutely frustrating looking at pictures of me from high school where I was 130 lbs and I thought I was fat (I realize everyone has different body types and such, but that was my opinion of myself in high school). Gaining 40+ lbs. in college took a huge toll on my self-esteem and body image. I used to think I wasn’t beautiful because I wore baggy clothes and sweatpants because I was ashamed at how much I gained. I wouldn’t even believe my fiance when he told me that he thought I looked beautiful that day.

But you know what, I was still beautiful. Even at my highest weight, I was still beautiful. I am still beautiful. God made me the way I am because it was His plan. Sure, I’ve taken measures to get back to a healthy weight, but there was no reason for me to think of anything less of myself than beautiful.

And you know what, YOU are beautiful. God created you, how awesome is that? It doesn’t matter how much you weigh or what you wear or what you look like, God made you the way you are because it is HIS plan. And I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to question the big guy upstairs :). I know sometimes it’s hard to believe it (and like I said, I continue to struggle with it), but I then remember that I am a child of God and I am beautiful in my own unique way, and the same goes for you!

Emily is engaged to the love of her life and blogs over at Day in the Life about her conversion to Catholicism, wedding planning, and weight loss (all at the same time!)

No Man is a Failure Who Has Friends

I don't actually know how to start this post. I don't think I even know how to say what it's about. I guess that on the most basic level this is about a friend of mine who's recently passed away, and the fact that I'm not sure how to deal with my grief. Or maybe this is how I'm dealing with it. I'm just going to write, and see what happens.

For starters, his name was Quinn, and he was fantastic. I mean that all around. He was a fantastic person, actor, and friend. He almost always wore a bright smile on his face, and he never wanted to keep it to himself. He was absolutely in love with theater; acting, reading plays, going to see Broadway shows- you name it, he did it. In fact, he was majoring in Theater and English, which I never thought very practical, but I admired his love of the subjects and was secretly jealous that he had the courage to go for his dreams like that. In fact, it was theater that was responsible for making Quinn and me close friends. Our junior year in high school, we worked on my school's performance of The Sound of Music, he as Max Detweiler and I as the Assistant Stage Manager.

We met in middle school, mostly because of a (future) mutual friend who'd noticed me sitting on the floor in a corner of a dance for the schools in the area. They'd come over to see if I was okay, and ask if I wanted company. I didn't particularly, but they were nice, so we head banged to Fall Out Boy's "Sugar We're Going Down" and went our separate ways. I thought it strange that these two kids would approach me, anti-social as I was, and want to be friendly to me, but I learned who they were when we got to high school.

As I mentioned earlier, we were in the same musical at my school during the Fall of our junior year, and that was how we became close. What I didn't know then is that those few months and the few that followed would end up being the most significant in our relationship. The summer before that year, I had been sexually assaulted (you can read about that here), and I had no idea how to deal with it. As Quinn and I got to know each other in earnest during those eight weeks, my mind was taken off of what had happened. Without realizing it, I developed a crush on him, and we talked almost every day after the show ended. I told him how I felt on New Year's Eve, and at midnight he told me he felt the same way. A few weeks later he told me that he really only liked me as a friend, and I was quite upset. However, we continued being friends, and I even took him to my junior prom. 

He was the only one wearing a black tux at our table, for which I will be eternally grateful to him.

We became closer again during our senior year, when I began dating one of his friends after we all worked on an independent theater project that January. For about seven months we ran in the same circle of friends, and a whole huge group of us spent a lot of time together doing all sorts of fun and crazy things. We drifted apart because we went to colleges that weren't near each other, he in Chicago and I in Washington. The one time I would have gotten to see him ended up being snowed out. 

Then, just before finals this past semester, I got an ominous email from a mutual friend saying that Quinn, who had had inoperable tumors for some years had taken a turn for the worse, and nobody knew how much time he had left. His friends were encouraged to call his cell phone and leave him messages, which his mother would play for him to hear. I immediately left him a message, and when I hung up, I collapsed in tears. I went through finals week nearly catatonic, just praying that God's will be done in the situation. I contacted Quinn's younger brother that week to see how they were both doing, and he told me that Quinn was doing better, which relieved me tremendously.

Friday I ended up thinking of him when I watched an episode of How I Met Your Mother that focused on death and the importance a person's last words can have for their loved ones. I couldn't recall what Quinn's last words to me were, but I knew that the last thing I said on my message to him was "I love you, buddy." I made plans with a friend of ours to go see him when she got home from taking classes abroad, and felt a little better about the situation. Unfortunately, when I woke up yesterday morning, I discovered that Quinn had passed during the night.

I'm not reacting the same as I was during finals, but the sadness is just as confusing and intense. I've been thinking of what he meant to me and replaying various moments during our friendship, and today I hit upon something I'd never considered before, but for which I will always be grateful to Quinn and to God for sending Quinn to me. After my assault four years ago, I was desperate to feel like someone, anyone loved me. I couldn't put my finger on it then, but that was what Quinn did for me during my junior year; he restored my hope that I could be loved, and that it would happen again someday. In the darkest time of my life, the good Lord sent me a kind smile, a good friend, and a warm heart in this wonderful boy. I've heard that friends are God's way of taking care of us, and especially in this case, I believe it wholeheartedly.

Quinn was so many things: a friend, brother, son, actor, inspiration, and light, among others. He had faith when others did not, smiled when others could not, and was an unfailingly kind and optimistic person. Words will never be enough to describe him, and I could never pay fitting homage to him in a blog post. I am blessed to have known him, and I will thank God now and in the future for sending Quinn into my life. Godspeed, Quinn. I hope to see you again one day in heaven. Until then, I love you, and you're in my prayers.