Once Upon A Time:

When I was younger, my favorite things to do were to go to Grandma's House, play dress up, build forts outside on the slides and play houses, watch Disney Fairytales, and play with dolls, playing out my perfect fairytale.

I had all these movies memorized. When a new one would come out, my Grandpa would take me, and I would take the aspects I liked most out of each one and apply it to my dolls lives.

I wanted Cinderella's Fairy God Mother.
I wanted Prince Phillip and Prince Eric searching for me like they searched for Sleeping Beauty and Ariel.
I wanted Belle's library.
I wanted Snow White's selflessness.
I wanted Jasmine's independence.
But most importantly: I wanted Meg's sass. (You really shouldn't be surprised. And I know Hercules isn't a "fairytale" but it's still my favorite.)

But then I started growing up. Playing games like Truth or Dare or painting my nails with friends were more fun than sitting on the floor with Barbies acting out scenarios I wanted to happen to me. I eventually forgot about them. They got put in storage (and honestly should be given to thrift stores or the trash) and I haven't thought about the stories I used to act out in years...

But me wanting a fairytale has never left my mind.

I don't have the best experiences in my life: I've expressed previously how hard the past few months have been on me. And they keep getting so much harder and harder. I feel like I keep losing amazing things I could have had if I had worked harder or if I had wanted less. It always seems like I almost have something... then I don't anymore. I go into this hate spiral that I really shouldn't - and I keep thinking I don't deserve anything good, which is the opposite of good.

Plenty of good things happen to me daily. I have great friends who keep my spirits up and help me forget the pain that I think about before I go to sleep at night.



Once upon a time, there was a girl named Samantha. She had two good people raise her, they just weren't the best for each other, and they weren't the best parents. Samantha always dreamed of being a princess, and having a family that loved her more than anything. She wanted to feel like her palace was a home, and not just an address.

And one day, with the right man, it will be. I just need to learn from some lessons first.

I won't hold my breath.

I'm not sad anymore.

I don't know how, but I got myself out of the rut I was in. I still feel sad when something sad happens - like surprises I knew were happening eventually, but I wasn't ready for. I really wasn't ready for. And I kind of, and very selfishly, wish didn't happen.

But I'm not sad anymore. When I wake up in the morning, the reason I don't want to get out of bed isn't because I don't want to face the world, but it's because I didn't get enough sleep because I was up too late watching Gossip Girl on netflix.

I feel like myself again. I want to be a part of people's lives. I want to make a difference. I want to get closer to becoming a mother, and everything I've been going through is going to not only bring me closer, but make me a better mom someday.

But I'm not going to hold my breath, and make myself believe that just because I'm okay now doesn't mean that I'm ready for all my dreams to come true right now. But they will. I know that they will. I just have to learn how to be patient and work with the world.

Trilogy

I stood there, armed with my weapons, ready to strike. I knew I would win. I had the advantage. They wouldn't win. They wouldn't be able to flee. I had them right where I wanted them. I was the hunter, and they were my prey. I was the assassin, and they were my target. I was the winner, and they were the loser. I didn't care how many of them there were, they were going down. There could be hundreds of them, and I wouldn't care. The ants were not going to beat me.

I have a perpetual hatred for ants. It started at a young age, and the fire has only been fueled summer after summer when the demon seeds have found their way back into my home. All they seem to do in my home is get in my everything and destroy it. Destroying the things that I love. The food I eat. The makeup I use. The bed I sleep in.

So, I stood there, after coming into my kitchen morning after morning and spotting the devil spawn crawling on my counters, sinks, and containers. It was NOT acceptable! I took my trusty can of raid and sprayed line after line, ant after solitary ant. Something inside of me was pleased with watching their bodies struggle as they tried to escape, but failing and dying. After the traumatizing I experienced at 11 years old, their life (as long as they were in my house) did not matter. They ruined me. Then I took my trusty Clorox with bleach and I cleaned up their carcases. Their tiny, black carcases, along with their scent trail they leave behind for their colonies. (Seriously, I hate them so much I know they even leave a stupid scent trail for their colonies.)

But then they began their next move - the one they always make. To. My. Bathroom. It wasn't fair. Why MY BATHROOM? I clean it. I use it regularly. I do my hair and makeup in there. Is that why? Do they hate me so much that they don't want me to make myself presentable to the world? Well, I knew what I had to do. I had to first, get my secret weapon (raid) and make my bedroom impenetrable. Not one of my enemies would be crossing the line of death into my room. (I obviously emptied a can of raid spraying down my doorway, windows, outlets, anyway they might enter.) Then, I took to the battle ground. (my penetrated bathroom.) (Good enough reason to use the word penetrate.) I killed every one of those demonic souls. Then I cleaned up their carcases and discarded of them. I considered a burning of the rags I used, just as a symbolic win, but then I thought of the fire hazards and I thought, better not.

I hope that this is the last I will write of the enemy. As every trilogy needs to come to a close, but alas, we will never know. Until next summer....

(The first and second installments of The Ant Trilogy are here and here! Enjoy my pain!)                                                                                                                                           

Things that make me happy cry:

I don't like crying. I feel like I'm not a crier... then when I get really emotionally involved, I cry a lot. I really only sad/confused cry for 2 reasons: I'm not happy with where I am and my family. (I don't want to get into family cries.)

But I cry a lot when I'm happy.
I cried at my best friend's wedding more than she did. I cried when she walked out of the temple. I cried when we hugged. I cried when she hugged everybody. I cried when I felt the spirit. I cried while I was talking to her mother in law. I cried while hugging her mother in law. I cried while at the luncheon. I cried while getting her out of her wedding dress and into her going away clothes. I cried while they left. I cried while back at her house and while I was in her room for the last time. I cried a lot that day. (It is actually kind of pathetic. I wasn't even getting married.)

I cry when I think about saving kids when I get the chance to be a social worker.

I cry when I think about The Second Coming.

I cry when I think about The Atonement.

I cry when I think about families being together forever, and how I love the temple, and how I am so excited to get married there one day and how my family will be with me FOREVER.

I cry during sports movies.

I cry when I think about, hopefully one day, some sucker out there is going to fall in love with me of all of the amazing, gorgeous girls out there, and will want to be with me forever, our of all the amazing, gorgeous girls out there, and how he will make me happier than all of them, and how I get to love him forever, which is all I ever wanted anyway. I am so excited that I'm going to get to love someone forever. And then I cry when I think how we're going to have a family, and it's going to be the family that I never got to have, and how I will love my kids and give them the love that they deserve and that they need!

I cry when I think about how much I'm going to love my kids, and I wish I were ready for their sweet spirits.

I cry when I think about my future.

I cry a lot.

I cry when I think about doing my parents temple work someday.

I cry at the end of The Notebook.

I cry at good music.



I cried writing this blog post.

Places I need to go:

I love travelling. I love going to my favorite places and enjoying. And I don't really want to come back home sometimes. I wish I could balance my time between New York, Hawaii, Utah, and California. But there's also other places I want to go.

I want to go to Bali. I want to go to Arkansas. I want to go to Boston. I want to go to Miami. I want to go to Orlando. I want to go to Seattle. I want to go to Paris. I want to go to Portland. I want to go to Figi. I want to go to Greece. I want to go to Italy. I want to go to Germany. I want to go to Ireland. I want to go to Scotland. I want to go to Thailand. I want to go to Africa.

But I would rather be in someone's arms who love me.

Never Underestimate A Woman Scorned.

I haven't told you any of my important life stories for a while, and while going through old things and listening to old mix cds, this seemed like the best time to get it all out there.

When I was 16, I screwed up. I screwed up big time. In the end, it made my most important friendships stronger, showed me who I could be, showed me who I didn't need in my life, and in the very end, made my relationship with God and my religion strongest.

The best place to start is at the beginning, right? So, here it goes: I was in a group full of the most amazing girls. I considered all these girls my very best friends, and my future bridesmaids at my future wedding. I'm sure some of you know who I'm talking about, and that some of you are these girls. But for those of you that don't, their names aren't important - I respect them and their privacy. I'll just refer to them as A, B, C, D, and E. A was (and is) my very best friend. And she's the one I will always feel like I hurt the most. B was new in all our lives. She recently moved to our side of town and her and I had clicked instantly. C was also new. Her and I had a class together the year before, and I had introduced her to the group and they all accepted her as on of our best friends. D and I go way back. Back to almost sunbeam and kindergarten times. We typically clashed because we both wanted to be in charge of things. We were both power hungry. And we're probably never going to be as close as we have been in the past ever again. Finally, E is probably the most innocent out of everyone. While being best friends with D, she played middle ground and didn't think I was a terrible person.

We were all (except for A) 16, me the most recent out of everyone. It was going to be the best year. Our year. We were going to go to all the football games, and cheer for our crushes on the field. We were all going to get asked to homecoming and go together in a huge group and do the funnest things together after the dance. We were going to have sleep overs every weekend. We would stay up on the phone late at night, just talking - and this is where I got in trouble. This is where I hurt the person who means the most to me on this planet. I hurt A. I was talking on the phone with C, and the Sadies dance casually came up in conversation. I didn't know who I was going to ask. I don't even remember how it was logical, but it was. I was scared of rejection, so I was going to ask someone so smart and so quiet that they couldn't say no to me. This happened to be A's crush. And I told C I was going to ask him to Sadies. The next day, it was a friday, and I had gotten to the cafeteria first for lunch, and it was always a fight to get a table and then get enough chairs for your group, so I wrestled together 6 chairs and placed my belongings on them. I waited. 5 minutes had gone by, the cafeteria was getting crowded, and people were asking me for my chairs. I would tell them, "No, my friends are coming, sorry." and then look at my phone. 10 minutes. People were just trying to take my chairs now instead of asking. Then I saw A and D together through the windows. They looked in, and then walked away. I risked using my minutes and calling them. And got rejected every time. I didn't know what I had done wrong, but this was every 16 year old girl's nightmare. After 5 more minutes, I just got up and left, threw my lunch away, and ran to the bathroom. I had completely lost my appetite and felt sick. I felt like I was going to die.

I spent the next few months making odd friends, rekindling older friendships that didn't believe the same things I did about life and my future. I was broken, and I just needed some friends to be the glue to hold me together. My home life was terrible. My school life was just as bad. And then I had no social life. I stayed home every football game. I didn't get asked to homecoming. I stayed home and read my history textbooks and did my homework. I had left my window open, and at around 11 at night, my... friends were forking my lawn and toilet papering my house (badly, sorry guys, but you sucked.) and I stuck my head out and saw them running away.

There were times where I would call one of them, just wanting to feel something other than the hate I had felt when the good thing of my life was taken away. I wanted that happy back. I wanted the good back. And most the time, they'd ignore me. And I'd drop the phone on the floor next to my bed and I would lay there, and I wouldn't feel anything. I would just stare at my wall and not think. But on the occasion they would answer, they would be on a group call already, and they would add me on, just for me to end up embarrassed, hurt, trying to defend myself, and more lost than I was before I dialed the number that lead to those feelings.

I would like to say that this was the darkest time of my life, but it wasn't. I was still hurt and confused. I didn't think what I did was wrong, but it was, and this is the punishment I was forced to face. When you're dealing with high school girls (or anyone was the XX chromosome) your life will be ruined.

I ended up turning to the wrong people. I will always love these people, that held me together, but they were the wrong people for me. I lost myself. I needed someone who held the same standards and beliefs I did, but even though I was at a school where were so many who believed the same thing I did, they didn't accept me. They had their friends and their clique, and I was the outcast. I knew they made fun of me behind my back. I knew they spread rumors about me. They made things just as bad for me as A, B, C, D, and E and their friends did. I lost hope in a lot of things. I couldn't make it through some days anymore, so I would leave school. I did that a lot. I ditched a lot. Mostly 5th and 6th period at the end of the day, and it became a habit. I was reckless.

I remember the first time I abandoned my faith for my first drink of alcohol. It was Z's birthday. (I'm referring to her as Z, her best friend as Y, her life long friend as X.) Y ended up coming with us, but then we set the alarm off at Z's dad's mansion, and she had to be home for work and left. X took us to her old apartment. Her and her fiance had just broke it off, and she had moved back in with her mom, her ex-fiance had moved out of the apartment. The complex must have not leased out their old place yet, and the locks hadn't been changed, and she still had her key. She had bought alcohol for Z's party, and we intended on drinking it. I remember Z had to go to brunch with her brother in the morning, so we went to X's mom's house and slept there, and me and X went to brunch by ourselves. She was so pretty, but she was broken, too. I don't remember what we talked about, but I hold her highly. We haven't spoken since, but she taught me to be myself that day. And after that talk, me and A made up, along with B and C. I hear that X is engaged again to someone better, and I'm so happy for her.

I wish that I could say that after making up with my friends things went back to normal, and that I lost my recklessness, but I didn't. Me, B, and C weren't 100% yet, and there wasn't hope for me and D. However, I was invited to weekend activities again, and they made things bearable, and I was starting to be put back together again. I still ate lunch alone mostly. Sometimes Z would be there. We would still ditch together. In the future, we would "party" together, and Z ended up teaching me about the world and what happens outside my bubble of faith and beliefs. I saw first hand what it's all about. And I'm so grateful that I have my faith and belief bubble.

My senior year, myself, A, B, and C were all friends. We had so much fun my senior year. D and I ended up getting into a fight ourselves, and I got outcasted again by her. It felt like the first time, but I still had A and C, thankfully. It felt like a lot of the first time it happened, D was the source of it and controlled it. I still don't know why she would have controlled all the hate against me the first time, when it didn't involve her, but some things I'll never know the answers to.

My life lesson for today is that girls are mean, ruthless creatures when you have "wronged" them in any way. I never thought my life would be like a spin off of Mean Girls. I never thought that I would end up like Cady Heron after Regina George blamed the burn book on her and the rest of the plastics. I'm sure that girls with similar stories never expected it, either. But... it happens. And I'm just lucky that I ended up with a happy ending. A is my very best friend, and this only brought us closer together. We didn't talk for 6 months. And while my young adult life has been hard with my parent's divorce and my childhood memories of abuse, and my father's purposely hurtful words, I think that those 6 months without her were my darkest.

A is married, and in June will have been married for a year. B recently celebrated her 2 year anniversary. C is living the 22 year old life, has a boyfriend, and is working at a school. I don't know much about D, but I know she's been seriously dating someone for over a year now in her college town. E will have been married for a year in May. I'm friends again with each of these girls, and D and I aren't that close, but I will still say she's a friend, as I'm working on this thing called forgiving and forgetting.

I'm 21 and working while dreaming of my sociology degree and wishing towards my future career in Child Protective Services. I have new best friends and a new circle. F, G, and H (letter names for my new 3 best friends) are exactly what I need in my life right now, and I never thought I would be so lucky. I never thought I would escape my 16 year old demons. But I did. Being a teenager is hard. Being a teenage outcast is even harder. I've been there. I've survived that. I actually survived that. When I was 16 I didn't think I would. But I did. And I hope that anyone going through anything remotely close to that knows that they can, too. Life, love, and friends all suck sometimes, but it's just a life lesson that you can get through it, and you can do anything.

People who deserve their own circles in Hell

It's not a secret: I really don't like people. I've come to realize that our race is filled with selfish, lazy people who only care about their own well-being. I've been compiling a list of the people who are the worst: the ones who truly only care about themselves.

• drivers who don't obey traffic laws or watch out for pedestrians and text while driving.
• pedestrians that take their time while crossing crosswalks. 
• people who don't hang up their clothes after they try them on.
• people who steal.
• the person who came up with making all federal/bank holidays a national shopping day/"sale" day.
• people who don't text back or only text back a word to a long text.
• people who hold up the line at Cafe Rio.
• people who make their youtube videos not available on mobile.
• people who try to spam/scam over facebook/twitter
• anyone who is in Glee or works on Glee.
• Taylor Swift.
• people who love making other people sad.

I'm not "That Girl"

She walks down the halls and streets in her Sperry's and JCrew wardrobe. Perhaps she'll play the piano or violin. She has intense eyes that make you want to melt inside. She has this thin, but captivating smile and quirky sense of humor that just makes you want to be her best friend. Everyone likes her. Everyone wants to be her friend. Everyone wants to date her.

Or maybe she walks down the halls with a cowgirl sense of style and and just an aura of confidence that brings you in. She's nice to everyone and is flirty and makes men feel wanted, even when she's not trying. She has a way of making everyone around her pay attention to her.

Perhaps she's the girl that's friends with all the guys. You know her, she's always hanging out with them, or is always being brought up by them. She probably plays sports with them. The boys praise her for her athletic abilities. She doesn't care what they think or say, or what anyone else thinks or says. She does what she wants, and is a free spirit, leaving all drama behind her.

Then, there's me. I don't really know how to describe myself other that weird, awkward, and unattractive. I'm normally really comfortable with who I am. I can get loud and crazy. I'm not the best at sports, but I love them. I love fashion, but my parents don't sponsor my wardrobe. I am the only permanent resident of "the friend zone" and currently mayor, president, and governor, as well as librarian/receptionist. I'm the person that gets asked if her friends are single or for their phone numbers. The one that you go through to talk to the "hot" or "pretty" friend.

I've been told that I'm fearless, bold, and wonderful. I've been told I'm hilarious and weird. I've never been told by a friend that someone was asking about my relationship status. My number is hardly ever asked for, let alone used to chat with me or get to know me. What most people see when they see Samantha Larsen is the girl with attractive friends. Maybe they see someone hilarious or fearless. Or maybe they just see a walking joke (which is what I feel like all the time.)

I don't think they see how compassionate I am about helping people or that I'm constantly putting others before myself. They don't see someone who is fragile or still picking up pieces from when her heart shatters. They don't see the girl who is craving acceptance because she doesn't even feel accepted in her own home, let alone the world. They don't see the girl who always feels alone, and hates it.

More importantly, what they don't see is all the love and energy she has to give to someone, and turn that love and energy into a family of her own. They don't see the pain she hides on a daily basis. I don't know why I had the need to tell all of that in third person, but now that it's out there... cool.

I think, the only think I could ever want is to feel accepted. I don't know how else to describe it. I mean, feeling the love of a family is something I've always wanted more than anything else, but never really felt in my immediate family. The "I love you" from my dad just because. The "let's go shopping" from my mom because my weight loss is apparent. These are all things I see happen, but they never happen to me. I've always been amazed at how different my friends' families are. How they want to get to know their kids friends and take them out once in a while if they're around. I usually don't feel like I can bring friends around to my home, let alone a boy (but that's a funny joke, like a boy would be interested in hanging out with me!) and sometimes I feel so out of place I don't even know if I belong at "home".

I know my Father in Heaven loves me, and he wouldn't ever let me feel this way with no greater reward at the end of my journey. I can't wait to have a family of my own. I can't wait to love my children the way I always wanted to be love. I can't wait to raise them, help them, love them, care for them, hold them, hug them, kiss them, tickle them, argue with them, help them with homework, send them off on their first dates, take them on vacations, talk to them, and just be their mom. Be the mom I wish I had. I can't wait until the day where my future husband becomes a father to our family, and loves our children as much as I do.

I may not be the girl I want to be right now.

I may not be the pretty girl with the JCrew wardrobe.

I may not be the girl that all the guys ask about.

I may not be the girl that is friends with all the boys.

But I'm the girl I need to be right now - I'm the friend, comforter, employee, searcher, fearless girl that God intended for me to be on January 28th, 2013. Tomorrow, I'll be the girl he intended for me to be on January 29th. In 7 months I'll be the 22 year old girl he wants me to be then. Who knows - maybe my life could be different, because life changes every single day. You can't let the bad times get to you, because the fact is - we are loved, and everything is going to be more than okay. Everything is going to be perfect.

The Sad Truth - I'm okay with it.

Here's the sad truth about 2013:

I have all these ideas - ideas of love and happiness. I have hope, and I really want something to happen this year, but I don't think it will.

I realized it in 2011 - I had set a goal for myself. I would make this boy mine before Christmas. It was my time. Everything was going perfectly - it had to happen. But it didn't. Nothing ever happened, except, ya know, I got crushed and felt embarrassed all the time. But I kept making these types of goals. They would be "before summer starts!" or "before Halloween!" Nope. Nada. Didn't happen. Sure, I go on dates from time to time. I hang out with guys, but nothing ever sticks.

But then, this morning, I was laying in bed, trying to keep warm, when I realized, I honestly wish I was married so I could just have this moment with my husband, and not only feel warm from the blankets, but from his love and his smile, and how I know it would melt my heart.

So, 2013: it won't be the year I fall in love again. It won't be the year I get roses for my birthday. I'm not going to have a valentine. I'm not going to be stressed out over what to get him for Christmas or his Birthday. I'm not going to have anyone to introduce to my parents or grandparents during the holidays. I'm not going to wake up to "Good Morning, Beautiful!" text messages or be surprised with flowers just because. I doubt someone with a Y Chromosome will call me beautiful. I'm not going to hang out with anyone in sweats because I'm comfortable with them. I'm not going to dress up for them because I want them to know I still want to impress them. None of this will happen, and I'm okay with that right now.

Sometimes, when I'm lonely, I think to myself, am I too picky? Because I don't want to seem desperate, because I'm not. I'm just waiting for someone wonderful to come along who will end up being my other half. My kindred spirit. I know that I get hit on at work and on social networking sites, but none of them are what I'm looking for.

I know that this year, like every year, will bring great things. New friendships. New beginnings. New opportunities. It will also bring new hardships. I'll be another year older, and that loneliness will sink in deeper.

I just know that one day, I'll be with someone who I can dress up with on Halloween, get flowers, and introduce to my family. And that makes everything so worth it.