I think, so often, life leads us to so many mountaintops with beautiful views and fresh air. We take pictures of these mountaintops, we rejoice in them, tell our friends about them, plant trees and flowers and adjust to the new climate.

Then something crashes and we find ourselves in a valley. A long one, with dark tunnels and a slight wind chill.

And that's where I've found myself the last couple months. For me, my mountaintop was a new semester approaching, a steady workout routine, endeavors into new, beautiful friendships that made me feel welcomed and loved like others before had not, and a new romantic endeavor to surround it all.

And my valley came as sickness crashing over me that I just couldn't shake for months, a break in my workout and weight loss routine because of how weak my body was, a constant argument of emotions and feelings with the romanticism, and the loss of some friends that I had probably needed to shake for a longer period of time than I should say.

But I fell. I fell hard and I paid for it. I found myself on the floor in tears a few too many times, I found myself indulging in ice cream for dinner more than I care to admit, and I found myself looking for joy and never just truly finding it.

I was confused. I was hurting. I would like to say that my life was what I could describe as a "dumpster fire" while I was standing among the flames. I think what hit me harder than anything else was that it was out of my control and I had no desire to try and round it up. I was letting the flames engulf me because sometimes the fight isn't worth it. Sometimes you just have to stand in the middle of the storm and hope it passes, and man, did I hope it would pass soon.

Through the storms and valley, what I realized is that those beautiful praises we sing at the top of the mountaintops should also be sang in the valleys. The valleys are the moments that mold us into the beautiful, caring, and kind people who can stand at the top of the mountains and scream praises to the top of our lungs. Because the praises we have for the mountaintops are the results of a valley conquered. They are the reward for a rough week or a rough month or 7 months or 5 years. They are the lights at the end of the tunnels, the last chocolate chip cookie in a homemade batch, the big f*** you to the valley behind you.

So, scream in the valley. Scream your confusion, scream your anger, scream your sadness, but scream your praises, too. Scream your praises that one day you will stand on the mountaintop and plant some damn flowers with sun shining down on your face. Because you can't reach the mountain without the valley.

Scream your praises sis, scream them always. Under every circumstance. On the mountaintop and in the valley.