Last post

I wish I could be back in my tenth grade English class. For a assignment we had to bring in a song that we felt had a deep meaning and read it as a poem to the class and explain it. I chose "Blowin in the wind" and my explanation couldn't do it justice. I was too preoccupied with the thought of a Jamba Juice and my boyfriends lips once this was over. 

I wish I could stand there with a Cat Stevens song by my side and speak passionately. But I guess that's what growing up is about. 

I wonder a lot what the husband is doing right. now. Serving a mission? Preparing like me? Home now, and awkwardly trying to adjust to the realities of life? Has he met me? Does he think I'm strange? Does he know that we are going to be sealed for eternity and make one another very very happy? 

Wherever he is, whoever he is, I hope he knows that I love him. That I pray for him that his testimony may grow so we can lift one another up. That his faith will never faulter so we can be prepared when trials come in our path. That at the end of this mission I can be the woman he has always dreamed of. 

I think I switch my emotions too often during the day. In one moment I can be worried about an exam or an assignment, then the minute someone asks about my mission I can be excitedly jabbering about Spanish and the Guatemala MTC. I hope once I'm in the field I can stay this excited. I wish I could bottle up this emotion I feel: pure happiness. And love. And on days when I feel lonely I can always just feel this way again. 

Sometimes the only reason I put milk in my tea is to see the beautiful pictures it paints. I love seeing it swirl around in a combination of hot and cold.

This is my last post for 18 months and possibly forever. Thank you for following me and encouraging me to write. If you want to follow my next adventure you can go to: http://hermanasnelson.blogspot.com/

LOVE YOU ALL! 

Fruit Cocktail

I've really been meaning to write here for a while, but as it often happens in my life, the more I put something off, the more scared I am to start it again because I've been gone for so long.

But let me say, it feels good to be home.

The following is going to be everything that is in my heart right now, everything that I want to talk about. I hope it's sweet and delicious like fruit cocktail. There might be pieces you don't like (like what the heck are those white things?) and pieces that are wonderful and you savor every bite. (maraschino cherries. Every. Time.)


One of the things that most influenced me in my youth was the examples that my papa set for me. From a young age, I have seen my dad on countless occasions praying in his closet and reading his scriptures in the front room. I don't think Daddy has ever commanded me to pray or read the scriptures. Rather, it was through the example he showed to me of righteous consequences of righteous actions that planted that desire in me. 

Yesterday we were on the bus for two+ hours riding into town. We got on and at the next bus stop about fifteen people got on, ten of them being from BYU. Then the next stop more got on and more and more. The bus driver was too nice; she just kept picking everyone up. It got to the point where there were probably fifty or so people in our small little bus and at one point the driver said, "Hold on hold on! I don't want cha to go surfing!"
Needless to say, we were pretty happy when we got to Kaneohe and half of the bus unloaded.

I can't wrap my mind around the fact that Heavenly Father knows all things. He knows every course taught at every college. He could perform surgery, interpret law, or build a rocket ship. He knows everyone's names. And that small part alone is an overwhelming amount of information. He is incredible. His knowledge is vast and his love is infinite.

I was with Jen and Abram when Jen looked at me and asked, "Are you okay? Are you happy?" I had my water bottle in my mouth, so I responded by clapping. After receiving weird looks from them, I took my water bottle out of my mouth, and said "...if you're happy and you know it..." Abram got really excited and said, "Oh! Clap your hands!" And then we proceeded to sing the entire song.

This week was one of those weeks that couldn't have gone better even if I had planned it myself. It was filled with family prayers, friends birthday's, ice cream, vegetarian meals and the cafeteria worker being especially sassy. It was full of saying the words, "Tegucigalpa, Honduras" over and over and also, "Yeah, I'm speaking Spanish." It was full of happyness and the realization that this my life, I get to serve a mission for the Lord and that I will be in Guatemala in the MTC in a few short months.
I came to the conclusion that there is no way I can completely prepare for Honduras. Of course I'll still work hard in my Spanish class and read all I can and talk to all of the people I can. But no amount of research can add up to all of the wonderful and unique experiences I will have there.
There is no way I can be prepared. And that's why this mission has to be the Lord's. I know that by relying on him I will be able to have the strength I need. I will know that I need to do and He will help me serve the best way I can.

It is going to be an adventure and I can't wait for it to start.

Thoughts from Devotional

"I have yet to find a verse written that says, 'Thou shalt be mediocre.'"

This was said at a devotional last week. Everyone laughed as the speaker continued with his talk, but I just couldn't stop thinking about it. 

There is so much truth spoken in this simple sentence. How often do we sell ourselves short. And more importantly, why?

I was thinking about this the other day. Thinking of how, essentially, we are all programmed the same. Yes, we all have our unique consciousness, but we all have two arms, two legs, and we all have a brain composed of different loves and synapses.

Some are shy, but the potential to be out going is there. They can be outgoing, but it just isn't a dominate trait, and they choose not to exercise it or act that way.

I hate people who say, "Oh, I could never wear that." "Oh I can't do that." It's ridiculous! Each of us can do, can be whatever we want. It's just a matter of want. It's a matter of wanting to do that thing.

Exercise those things you want to grow and they will grow more than you ever thought.

"Have you lived your vision?"

My vision is me being a missionary. Working as a nurse. Married happily to someone who loves this gospel as much as he loves me. I want to be sealed in the temple. I wan to travel the world. I want to act and dance and sing. I want to be in a musical. I want to be a writer. I want to be an EFY counselor. I want to offer myself for humanitarian work. I want to save someone's life. I want to have those days where when you lay in your bed you feel every single ounce of tiredness on your body. But still feeling success in all the tasks that you were able to accomplish that day.

I want to smile.

A collection of sporadic thoughts and pictures

"Aubrey! How is Hawaii? How come you haven't updated your blog? I want to hear all about your adventures!"

I feel like I've repeated all my stories at least 7 times, so instead we will have the things in my head.
Enjoy. Or try to at least :)

Tristan and I... "paying attention" during New Student Orientation

I'm officially in Hawaii. 

It's funny, how much you learn about yourself once you are completely on your own.

For example: I like having everything in an organized place. The only thing that bothers me about the dorm (so far) is the fact that my cabinet is just two huge shelves, and not anything to really separate my stuff. So I just have little piles, of books, lip gloss, and toiletries.

And this sounds crazy cliche, but more about who I am. Like today after church I was talking to some people and someone said, "Wow, you are just super optimistic." Then another girl said, "Yeah! She's just a big ball of sunshine!" "Oh, that's the perfect way to describe you Aubrey! A great big ball of sunshine!"

I mean, I always had people say I was happy, and enthusiastic, and friendly, but I think in those social situations I was just more aware of it and trying to be like that. But in this situation I was just invested in getting to know people, and that is just how I came across. I realized that that is me! That is my personality and you know, I love it. I love me.

New hikes with new friends Sierra and Celeste

I have always thought that the song, "The Gambler" by fun. was the most romantic love song. Ever.

And ever since hearing it, especially when I'm listening to it alone engrossed in my thoughts, I've always wanted someone to kiss me on the eye.

At a waterfall in a natural pool after our exhausting 4 hour hike

Have you ever seen that episode of Sponge Bob (stop it. I realize I'm referencing Sponge Bob, but stay with me here) where Squidward decides to move out of Bikini Bottom? He finally does, into a gated community where there are only squids and everyone lives in the same house. At first he thinks its so handy dandy because there's no Sponge Bob and Patrick to bug him. And they have bread in a can and he gets to play his oboe. But then, slowly he realizes that everything isn't as picture perfect at it seems, and soon the monotony wears on him and he just wants his old life back.

I just wonder if I'm going to be like that. Everything seems so perfect and wonderful. I live by a beach. A girl in my dorm offered to teach yoga literally right outside my door in the mornings for two bucks and she teaches at Turtle Bay for a heck of a lot more. I had a job interview for a MA position and cannot possibly contain my excitement. Right now, it is most definitely my dream job and I want it so bad. But is it gonna wear on me? Am I going to get sick of the beach?

I guess the most I can do right now is just wait and see :

This would have been a picture of us at the beach, but my camera is MIA, so instead this is Jen and I enjoying class  :)

But really, truly, honestly, I love everything about this place. I love going to the cafeteria, and ask the Asians what they are eating because they are so clever with their food combinations and make the healthiest and yummiest things (sandwich with hummus, cucumbers, and tomatoes, check). I love opening every single class with a prayer. I love walking to class and it randomly raining. I love the beautiful spirit here and that the holy ghost is truly with me every minute. I love going to the caf and staying there for two hours because I've just been there talking with whomever I decided to sit by that day. I love the diversity of everything. I love eating breakfast with a Tahitian  learning psychology from a Tongan, trading notes with a Venezuelan, getting lunch with a Trinidadian, then watching Hot Rod with an Australian.

Beaches, hikes, and beautiful scenery aside, I love this place, so much.

We couldn't find any cups for our smoothies, so we put them in wine glasses.

Sometimes

-I told Matthew that I hated it when people say I'm sorry in certain situations. Such as, "I didn't get enough sleep last night." The person who is appologizing had nothing to do with your lack of sleep, but shouldn't there be a socially acceptable response instead of this? Wise Matthew simply paused, then said, "Maybe they're sorry that they can't do anything to help, when they really really want to." Sometimes I love that kid.
-I get headaches
-I would wear dresses everyday if I could
-I call someone to ask them a simple question, and end up chatting for at least 30 minutes. I love unexpected conversations the very best.
-I have to re-read this because it's easy to forget.
-My favorite place to walk along the beach is right where the water meets the shore. I love the feeling of the water coming up at your feet and washing away any imprint you left in the sand.

Today as I sat on my back porch eating peaches while reading picture books, the thought occurred to me, 
"A good thing is coming to an end."

But then, with a smile, I realized, 

"But a great one is about to begin."

I love her because- Miss Bee

• she is one of the most creative people I know. More creative than Pintrest!
• she is constantly serving others. Whether it's making a cute project for them, a yummy treat, or cleaning. Especially cleaning.
• we can call to ask a quick question, and end up talking for a half an hour
• the only rules she plays by are her own
• she has the best laugh
• she is supportive in everything I do
• she truly has such an incredible testimony of Jesus Christ and his gospel. She loves it and wants to share it with everyone!

I love him because- Big Brother

• when he lived close by, I would get random phone calls to make a new recipe, record a song, or play a new game
• he has an enthusiasm for EVERYTHING
• no matter our distance, he always keeps me laughing!
• I get a new nickname from him every other day
• he taught me to be friends with everyone
• he has introduced me to the most amazing music
• he has taught me that life is an adventure
• I really hope that I can be a world traveler like him one day
• he has shown me that, even if you start a little late, do what you love

I love her because- Belly

• we steal each other's clothes. For some reason, no matter what, the others closet always seems cuter.
• she supports me in my crazy ideas. Even though you can tell she most definitely doesn't want to
• she stands up for me, in whatever situation
• we can drive around, with the windows rolled down, and belting out our favorite songs
• I always thought she was so much more beautiful than me. Then she taught me I was beautiful in my own way.
• I can talk about boys for hours on end and she never gets bored of it
• she can be sassy and joking one moment, and sincerely worried and concerned for my well-being
• we think in the exact same way
• she has the most hilarious blonde moments

I love him because- Chubby

• he buys me old fashioned glazed doughnuts because those are my favorite
• he fills up my car with gas randomly
• he lets me use the scooter even if he wanted to
• he illegally downloads movies for me
• he will randomly dance with me
• he often will say, "Aubrey, look at this!" with the excitement of a 5 year old. And most of the time it is worth looking at.

I love him. Partly because I have to. Mostly because I want to.

Why I can't stop smiling

I wouldn't necessarily call it depression.


Rather, it was the absence of happyness. 


I feel like there are so many who had their turning point in high school. The point when they truly are converted to the gospel of Christ.


I am one of them.




My Sophomore year was a great year and a horrible year for me. 
There was the period where after I got my braces off that I actually felt like something.


Someone.


Having a boyfriend only raised my self esteem and made me feel older, mature, and important.


That of course came crashing down when we broke up.


"Oh, the poor dear! A boy broke her heart!"


No folks, it was completely the other way around. 


I broke up with him.


I feel petty, writing about breaking up with a boy but it honestly was one of the hardest things I've done.


At the time, I had no idea why it had to be done. All I knew was that it hurt. It hurt a lot. And I sat on my tramp in my back yard, curled up in the fetal position crying. 

But this post isn't about some silly break up.

It's about what happened after.

You see, during the break up, something had happened. 

Because of all of my time had been dedicated to him, there had been no time for Him.

Not just Him, but my friends as well.

I felt like an awkward outsider who didn't belong.

I still had friends, people still talked to me. I still laughed and smiled and interacted with others. But there was just this feeling of lonliness. As soon as I was home, I just felt like no one cared. No one would care if I didn't go to school. Sure, they were nice when I was there, but would it really make a difference to them if I wasn't there?

I was there, on my bed every evening crying. Wondering why Heavenly Father would do this to me. I thought a lot. I asked Heavenly Father and learned to be fully reliant on him.

I never had a moment where one person reached out to me and said, "Aubs, I care." Rather, it was the opposite. It was me sitting there in my room and saying,

"Aubrey, right now you can go in two separate directions. You can sit here on your bed crying and feeling bad for yourself. Or, you can change.

You can grow! You can take this experience, look it over, and never go back. You can make the choice each day to stay depressed and upset. Or, you can decide each and everyday to be happy. You can walk these halls feeling like crap, but still being happy because we never want to feel this way again."

So it happened.

I changed.

And the funniest ting happened. 

Thanks to Him, I have never gone back.

"He loves you too"

There were a few quiet moments last night after I said my prayers last night.
I was exhausted and found myself sitting on the floor after I had finished, not quite ready to close my eyes and say good-bye to the day.

There, during that small moment, I heard a voice, barely a whisper.

"He loves you too"

It was so profoundly simple. I hadn't asked for anything that night, rather quite the opposite.

I get into this mode of thinking very often. When I think about how I am so blessed, I often wonder why. Why do I have such wonderful friends and family? Why do I have so many earthly possessions? I think to myself, when I talk to Him and wonder to myself.

Perhaps I could not have quite so many people love me? I mean, I'd still keep some, but not ALL of them, so that way those people in the world who don't feel loved, can?

I think about the kids in Africa, or India, or any other third world country for that matter. How so many are abused, starved, and dying. Why are these poor children so underprivileged, when I have so much?

Then my sweet father will always remind me, "Aubs, you should only worry about those things you can control."

I used to get very frustrated with this. For me, it used to translate as, "Aubrey, there is nothing you can do,  so you should just stop."

Ah, but how silly my young immature mind was. It took a couple years, but I finally realized what this meant.

Heavenly Father blesses me, with so many wonderful people and things. Well, what can I control? How I respond?
Am I selfish and rude to my friends? Or can I be nice, and supportive?

Through this new mindset, I've opened my heart so very much. I feel such an overwhelming power of love wherever I am: at home, at school, at work. Because I put it there. Because I can control it.

I feel like these are rambling thoughts but hey, it's your own fault for deciding to read this in the first place. :)

Give me a number, instead of a name

The seed was planted on Sunday.
The seed of my thoughts that I am about to share with you.


During Young Women's, it appeared there. Immediately I took out my notebook and wrote this down:

"Names.

They are the number one identifier of a person.

Could you imagine what a world would be like without names?

"Hey..... you."

How many would react, thinking you meant them?

There is already such conformity in the world.

So without a name, how would we be identified?

How would we want to be identified?"

And that seed has been germinating all week.
Until today, at the temple.


Have you ever had a guest speaker in a class, or something like that, and they identified you by your clothes? I feel like this happens all the time.

"Yes.... uh, Red Shirt? Yes Red Shirt, can we get you to come up here?"

So in this hypothetical world my brain created, would we simply be identified by our appearance?

"Yes, Brown Hair with the color melt and Denim Shirt?"

Ha. Right.




I think that names easily go unnoticed. At least, that's how I was in my sheltered elementary school.
Like, those instances that I might mention a friend and based on their name, my parents would automatically make assumptions.
Like, Henry Lee. I still remember that day my dad asked if he was Asian.
"What? No!" 
I was appalled, whatever gave him THAT idea?
Because in my white dominate school, "Lee" was just another name that didn't appeal to a certain race. 




Appearance is too broad, so is it based on all the things you participate in?
"You know, she's the one that dances. And sings. And writes. And acts. And..."


Or, is by our personalities?
"Haven't you seen her? The really loud one in the hallway. She's always yelling."


Again, I pose this question:
How would you want to be identified?

"Surely you've noticed. That beautiful daughter of God? She is always smiling."

Why I don't wear make-up

In truth, I remember my excitement at opening my first tube of mascara. After watching Chanelle and Brooke for years, I was sure I could do it perfect. I'm sure, now with my much more experienced hand, it looks a bajillion times better, but that's besides the point.

I felt magical walking into my sixth grade class. I could see the girls noticing and I felt important. I felt special. There were a select few of us allowed to wear make-up and it felt like we were a band of important outsiders. Who huddled together in the hall discussing what mascara's we used.

Ah, then Centennial. Naturally when a young girl is trying to gain the attention of the male population I felt it necessary to add eye shadow to the mix. As far as I was concerned, the plan worked splendidly. I mean, I had people talking to me. In fact, I had boys HUGGING me. I hung out with them on the weekends. I was practically the coolest thing since sliced bread.

Then came the freshman year when I started Drill Team. I had practices early in the morning and forgot to bring my mascara to school. I felt naked, walking through the hallway on those days. I felt different.

I was startled, however, to find that people weren't shunning me down the hallway. Rather, the opposite. My friends still greeted me before classes and hugged me in the hallways. I wasn't immediately shunned for my lack of eye wear.

Thus came the realization - my make up doesn't make ME. I'm still Aubrey. I'm still loud, I still love to smile and love to hug. I'm still crazy and sporadically break out in song.

Each morning before I go to school, I look myself in the mirror.

I smile.

That to me is beautiful.

Happyness. Confidence. Laughter.

And the knowledge that I am a child of God.

Because that's what makes me up, not a bunch of powders in little containers.

I am beautiful. No matter what anyone says.

Incredible

The Living Christ

In July or so, we got a new Young Women's presidency. Our president was young and wanted to tackle anything.

"Guys, Young Women's in excellence isn't until December, but I want each of us to do something different this time. Instead of just standing up and saying something we did for personal progress, I want each of us to pick something that will help us grow closer to Christ."

A week later.

"Oh, and we're memorizing The Living Christ."

If any of you know my Papa Smurf, you might know his knack for memorizing. In his mind are a plethora of inspiring poems, conference quotes, and scriptures. When we travel, all he brings is his phone and a conference transcript. In his phone, he has saved a list of quotes he wants to memorize, and one by one, by that end of the plane ride, he usually has knocked out ten or so.

So as my mother and I embarked on the daunting task to memorize such a large and sacred document, I hoped that maybe my dad's "sponge memory" would shine through.

It didn't.

It was more difficult than I hoped. We were supposed to memorize a paragraph every two weeks, and each Sunday I'd go to church feeling inadequate and unprepared.

As we go halfway through, a leader saw our struggle and invited us to go to her house each Sunday after church to practice together. We went over the parts we stumbled on, and made up silly signs for the things we couldn't remember.

For a few months, each morning when I got up, I recited The Living Christ along with a man reciting it in a podcast. Those early moments in my bathroom were, and are still precious to me. Simply because of the love of the Savior that I felt in there, his sweet spirit saying, "Aubrey, I am here. I am the Living Christ. I will always be here when you need me."

Last Wednesday the youth went to Temple Square. As we squished on couches surrounding The Christus, sweet Abbie leaned over and said, "Sister Clark? Could we recite The Living Christ in front of the Christus?"

After a thumbs up from the missionaries, we all stood up there, and began.

"As we commemorate the birth of Jesus Christ two millennia ago, we offer our testimony of the reality of His matchless life and the infinite virtue of His great atoning sacrifice."

Tears began welling up in my eyes as I stared around the room. I looked at the moon and the stars, the world beyond measure. I stood next to my Savior, as the realization filled my soul that of all the immeasurable people in this world, He knows me. He loves me. He will never forget me.

The words that I had uttered almost robotically for months now had a divine purpose, to bear testimony that He lives. That He is our Lord and Savior and that, after this holiday season, we can never be so foolish as to forget that.

"...Jesus is the Living Christ, the immortal Son of God. He is the great King Immanuel, who stands today on the right hand of His Father. He is the light, the life, and the hope of the world. His way is the path that leads to happiness in this life and eternal life in the world to come.

God be thanked for the matchless gift of His divine Son."

The things we take for granted

"I was born deaf and 8 weeks ago I received a hearing implant. This is the video of them turning it on and me hearing myself for the first time :)"

I have thoughts. They just change frequently.

At least once a week someone walks up to me and says, "Aubrey, did you know I had a dream about you last night?"

It seems like it mostly began this school year.

Have I recently begun inhabiting people's dreams?

Or are people finally getting the courage to tell me?

"You know Aubs, I used to be really intimidated."

"You? By what?"

"You."

"Pardon?"

"No, it's not bad. It's just like, there's so much Aubrey to handle when someone meets you for the first time. They don't know what to do with it all. It's really overwhelming. So you're kinda scared of it, and so I was intimated by you.

But it's cool. Because we're friends now."

When I was three I watched "The Wizard of Oz" for the first time.

I've made a promise to myself. My children will not be allowed to watch it until they are.... 8.

Maybe 10.

I saw the tornado, and that did it. In my young adolescence, I was immediately scarred.

I'm sure if my mother would have known the numerous traumatizing experiences that movie caused, I would have had to wait until I was ten too.

Folks, I was scared of the wind. Not a boogie monster, not some creepy thing under my bed. If a slightest breeze blew, I was clinging to the nearest stable thing. Whether that be a light pole, my father's leg, or in the best occasion - my primary teacher's waist.

Olivia technically isn't my first car.

You know, the white one with the red peace sign and cute seat covers.

For two blissful weeks, I owned a red car.

I love the color red.

She was a stick shift. I had never driven a stick shift before, but my dad in all his adorable love and patience, agreed to teach me.

That first time I drove it around the neighborhood I stalled what felt like every 20 seconds. By the end of it my poor father had whiplash.

Two days later, he got up and told me, "Why don't you drive yourself to school?"

I was absolutely terrified. "Daddy, what if I stall?"

"Then you'll just start it again."

At the time, it seemed so simple. But that was still so reassuring. If I failed to do something right, I could start over, I could try again.

I was coming home from work that fateful evening. I somehow stalled on the extremely steep 25 degree incline of my driveway. I slowly inched forward and somehow was veering off to the right. After stalling three times, frustrated, and tired from mopping and making sandwiches, I gunned it.

Straight into the side of my garage.

I pulled on the brake and swung open the door - car still running - to a large mass of smoke.

Before someone could say "Cue tears" I was running inside hysterical.

"Are you okay? Are you okay?"

My mom and Jason came running up to me.

I nodded and merely pointed outside to where the damage waited.

I sat on the stairs, my head in my hands as I stared at the tan carpet slowly grow dark from the tears running down my cheeks.

I heard the door open several times as Jason and my mom ran outside and in grabbing garbage cans, brooms and rags to clean up the glass and oil sprayed in my garage.

I couldn't think clearly. All I can remember is my tears. Perhaps it was the combination of hormones and teenage boys. I was absolutely hysterical, and I couldn't seem to fathom why.

My mom walked inside, put her arm around me and said, "Maybe you should go to bed."

I went upstairs, and immediately sat on my floor and informed my friends of my recent car crash.

The two minutes in-between their responses was too long and I simply laid my head down on the ground. I laid there for a half hour or so, as my chest bobbed up and down and my heart beat way too fast. I couldn't sleep.

My mom suggested I get a blessing.

I felt silly, and I walked down the stairs.

You get blessings for illnesses, for sickness.

I realized, as I sat in my parents dark bedroom, on the edge of their bed that that didn't matter.

All I needed was peace. All I needed was that sweet reassurance that "this too shall pass" and it would all be okay.

And my dad was able to give me just that, simply by being worthy and prepared when I woke him up late at night.

I'm only a child

If you do not know how to fix it, please, stop breaking it.

Disconnect from the world

"When I was a little nugget..." I began.

"Aubrey, you are a little nugget."

"Okay, then when I was a little little nugget..."

You got through that stage in your life when you're trying to find out who and what you are. And you try to act a certain way and dress a certain way.

Then suddenly, you realized, that all you have to do is impress God. Show him how much you love him,. You read his words and love Him, and then all that other stuff doesn't matter anymore.

You don't have time for Heavenly Father and half-heartedly say your prayers at night. Then one night, you read your scriptures and say, "Heavenly Father, I read this. It's amazing. I can't believe I never noticed it before." And He says, "I know. I've been waiting. And I'm so glad you found this out."

When you're in that stage you are so worried about how you act. You are so disconnected because even if you're trying to be awesome, do you really feel that way? Do you really feel beautiful and confident in yourself?

That is why Heavenly Father is so grade. You can say anything. You can wear anything. The only thing that matters is your relationship with your Heavenly Father and all his children.

Because in the long run, we won't care if we wore a red shirt or a blue shirt that day.