sunday afternoons & lattes

there is such a profound vulnerability in love…in marriage…in giving yourself fully and truly to another human being.

i was not prepared for this type of world-shattering, life-changing love when it happened to me. ready for it? sure. prepared? not quite. by this i mean, i didn’t expect it. i didn’t seek it, and i didn’t plan it. it just happened {by the grace and provision of the Lord.} i don’t think i could’ve done anything to prepare. nothing prepares you for something like this…something that completes you wholly. something so divinely beautiful you cannot fully prepare yourself for.

we have a canvas print hanging in our living room that states, “love is the greatest adventure.” brian thinks it’s cheesy {because it is}, but i wanted to hang it up because i truly believe it.

some believe that marriage, especially at a young age, is limiting. i have even had people say to me that it is “a death sentence.” but, in all honesty, i have never felt more alive in my entire life. my husband was the missing piece of my heart. if i had never met him, life would go on, i’m sure. but i would have never known what it feels like to truly be audra meredith. 

love — true, deep, compelling, passionate love — has set my world on fire. i have accomplished things i never would’ve dreamed of accomplishing otherwise if not for my husband and marriage.

i have nothing out of the ordinary to say. just a simple reflective appreciation post for the other half of my heart.




introducing {shambly chic}

no, your eyes do not deceive you. i changed the blog name.

perfectly imperfect” now becomes shambly chic!

the former blog name didn’t feel right; it sounded too fancy for me. also, “shambly chic” is kind of an inside joke with my husband and i. my decorating style is within the realm of “shabby chic,” except that i am a bit more random, silly, and kind of a mess; therefore, “shambly chic” just fits so much better.

i am beginning to pride myself on my type b personality. (more on this later, in a pending post called “type b teacher.”) i used to see it as a flaw, but now i am finding the beauty in having organized messes, and overall being a walking contradiction. it’s fun. i am laid back, yes, but lazy? no. being able to go with the flow should not be seen as laziness. instead, i view it as flexibility.

i have always been scatterbrained, due to undertaking many (contradictory) activities all at once. for example, in high school, i was both a cheerleader and a thespian/choir kid. in college, i was married and in an a cappella group (which, trust me, that is not the norm by any means.) i like it.

i like to be a hodge-podge of many things. i get to experience more, which, in turn, has made me more open minded.

it has taken years for me to 1) acknowledge that i am type b and 2) embrace it. the type b personality is frequently viewed negatively. but it doesn’t have to be.

i am a mess; my life is a mess. a very uniquely, exquisitely beautiful mess. and i am thankful.

i remember…

i remember life before type 1 diabetes.

i remember what it was like to crush work outs without having to stop for a low blood sugar. i remember what it was like to spend time with my husband, family, and friends without having to leave early or be super boring and not feel well. i remember what it was like to sleep through the night. i remember what it was like to eat whatever whenever without having to do a bunch of guessing and checking and fearing the ICU based on an incorrect guess. i remember what it was like to not have to worry about dealing with the insurance company and pharmacy not giving me what i need when i need it.

i remember living free.

though i am thankful that the disease that ails me is not terminal, the reality is that it is chronic and life-threatening. i struggled for a long time about not feeling justified in being sad about it. i still feel this way a lot of the time. people even say, “well at least it’s not cancer,” which is true, and i am thankful. SO thankful. but it is still terrible, and i am finally learning how to allow myself to feel sad about it when i need to; i’m only human.

the night of my diagnosis, the ER doctor warned me that i would be going through the 5 stages of grief as i accept my “new life” with T1. he said it may take years, depending on if i let myself properly feel my emotions. i thought going through the stages of grief over a chronic illness diagnosis was silly, so i chose not to for a while. this ended up being detrimental for me, and i am picking up the pieces this year because of it.

instead of harping on the harsh reality of T1 all the time, i have tried to make it as positive as i can. i want to prove to myself and the world that i can still accomplish great things and be as “normal” as possible even with an auto-immune disease. that was the whole motivation for completing a half marathon, and after that race, it turned me into a runner, which was unexpected. that is one of the blessings from my T1.

i have learned to appreciate every moment, even the bad ones.

not every day is good, but there is good in every day.

i have adopted this as my new philosophy. i have noticed that my attitude can greatly influence my perception, especially when it comes to my T1.

i am able to make my passion my career, and i get to run around with 20 amazing preschoolers every day. those kiddos are my heroes. they have taught me so much, and i am grateful that i am able to have a job {that i love} regardless of my T1D. it is complicated sometimes, especially when i have a low blood sugar around them or i have such crazy levels all day that i come home and totally crash. but it is so worth it. they are so worth it.

one distinct thing i remember about myself before my diagnosis: i did not feel strong. i did not feel confident. i did not feel empowered.

i can now say the opposite. i do feel strong now. knowing that i can overcome and defy the odds makes me feel strong, confident, and empowered. i have this fight in me; it makes me not want to give up. in fact, it makes me want to conquer. i have always been “passionate,” as my parents like to say, but let’s be real, i’m feisty. i’m feisty, and real, and i have an overwhelming desire to live with purpose.

i don’t know if there will be a cure in my lifetime; i can only hope and have faith. i am so grateful to have a strong support system to help me work through the plethora of emotions this disease brings with it. hope and strength. that’s all it takes most times.

and laughter…lots of laughter. life is too precious for constant negativity. 🙂

hope and strength