October 10th is a special date in our family.

First and foremost, this was the day my dad was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when he was 18 years old. A year and two months later, he and my mom were sealed in the Mesa Arizona Temple for time and all eternity. That’s when our family unit began.

I’m extremely thankful for the friends my dad had in high school who shared the gospel with him. I’m thankful for my mom, who was baptized with her entire family when she was 8, who kept her standards. I’m so thankful to both my parents who decided that having a temple marriage was more important that making everyone in the family happy. I know my mom didn’t get the wedding she wanted, and I ache for her because of that. But she and my dad are the ultimate examples for me on how I want to do my wedding. In the words of my dad, “I [want] to do it right the first time – and only time.” How thankful I am for everything they have done for me – for their sacrifice, examples, love, prayers, faith, and belief.

Exactly 25 years after my dad was baptized – on October 10, 2012 – I entered the MTC to begin my mission.

That’s the day my parents dropped me off at the MTC. I was so eager and excited and ready to get things going! I was nervous being left there because for the first time in my life, I was going to truly be on my one. As a missionary, contact with your family is limited to an email once a week and phone calls on Christmas day and Mother’s Day. I only got to hear the voice of my family three times on my mission.

I still remember so vividly being dropped off at my classroom. I was smiling from ear to ear because this was the first real, big dream I ever had that was coming true! I had my books, I had my name tag, I was confident – and then my teachers started speaking to me in Spanish. I remained standing there, smile plastered on my face, and a feeling of utter dread spread over me. I began panicking. With that ridiculous smile that felt forced now still plastered on my lips, I began screaming in my head, I have no idea what they’re saying! I don’t know Spanish! It’s nothing like German – nothing even sounds similar! I signed up to do this for 18 months?! I can’t do this, not for that long! I have to go to the front desk and call my parents to come and get me out of here RIGHT NOW!

But I didn’t. I sat down and struggled for five minutes to figure out the difference between ¿De dónde es? and Soy de …

The past two years have flown by. It’s crazy. I remember the things I did before my mission, but they feel completely disconnected to who I am today. I feel like a completely different person.

The thing about a mission is that it changes you. I’d heard that before my mission and I know other people say it all the time, but in all honesty, you don’t begin to understand that until you go through that change yourself.

How did I change? Well, there were some physical changes – I got rid of my atrocious blunt cut bangs and started wearing mascara [occasionally eye shadow, too]. Looking back at my pictures before my mission, all I can see is a little kid. I definitely didn’t look my age a lot of the time.

A lot of the changing, though, happens internally. It’s hard for a returned missionary to describe how they’ve been changed. Their core is always the same – my dad explained that to me so beautifully and eloquently in an email during one of my last two transfers in the field. At my core, I’m still Kim. I like to wear dark colors, I like combat boots and studs, I love to read and write and believe that words can change the world. I still make random comments and wear mismatched knee high socks and have an odd sense of humor.

But my testimony is stronger and deeper. For the first time in my life I know what it means and feels like to have a personal relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I know what it means to put all your faith in them and walk forward not knowing what the heck is going to happen. I’ve seen and felt the blessings of daily scripture study and prayer. I felt the difference in the days where I did those two things and when I didn’t. I learned more than I ever had about prayer and how not only is it literal communication, it’s also a lot of work and effort. I learned that your relationship with Heavenly Father is just like any other relationship you have – you have to work at it, cultivate it, and reach up to Him in times of stress.

I learned more about the real world. My eyes were opened for the first time and I began seeing things as they really are. It’s odd – I was never raised in or around a “Mormon bubble,” but I created one for myself. Ironically, I had to go to Utah [the place people deem the biggest “Mormon bubble” in the world] in order to step out of my own bubble and see people in a completely new light.

I know what it’s like to struggle and suffer. I also learned, through those painful experiences, how we can’t judge other people’s sufferings. Too many time someone tells us about their problem and we brush it away because there’s next to no sympathy in the world today. I learned how to have empathy, what it means to truly listen, and I began learning how to be a true friend as well. I also learned that you don’t always have to take every single piece of advice that’s given to you, and you don’t have to offer advice all the time – especially if you don’t know what to do.

This is me, today. When I look at the girl standing with her parents outside the MTC, I hardly recognize her. I stare at her and think, Holy cow, is that seriously me? That looks nothing like me.

My mom pointed something out to me today that really hit home for the first time. She told me, “You left on your mission my baby, but you came back a woman.”

I grew up.

And the trials haven’t stopped since I’ve been home. No they have not. I’ve been able to see the tremendous blessings that have come from my missionary service, but I’ve also had to face decisions and stress that have left me shocked.

Did I really sign up for this kind of life in the Premortal Existence?

The answer is a firm Yes. I agreed to this. I told the Lord I could handle this and do what He needed me to do. I don’t remember what I promised to do in the Premortal Life – that’s what I’m on this earth for, to figure it out and do it by trusting in God and His plan for me. It’s scary at times. SO scary! I learned on my mission what faith means, and going off of pure faith is absolutely terrifying.

But it’s worth it. It’s so worth it.

I can’t honestly say that my mission was the best 18 months of my life. Because your mission shouldn’t be the best 18 or 24 months of your life. If you peak on your mission, that’s sad. There’s a whole life ahead of you, waiting to be lived and waiting to give you miracles and blessings.

However, I can honestly say my mission was the best 18 months for my life. Because on my mission, I molded and shaped. I was broken – in the best way possible, but I was still broken. I went through the refiner’s fire. A few months after I came home I realized that my life truly hadn’t begun until October 10, 2012: when I put on that name tag, symbolically saying, “Okay Lord, I’m Yours for the rest of my life. Make me into the person you need. Help me do Thy will.”

Did my mission make me a better person? I certainly hope it did, but time will tell. I look back with sacredness on the experience of my mission and thank Heavenly Father for what I went through.

And I look forward with an eye of faith. It’s not always easy for me to keep a positive outlook on things and I stress out and get overwhelmed quickly. But I’ve had enough experiences to know that when the Lord is in control, things work out. Not exactly how you envisioned, but how they need to.

What does the future hold? I’m not 100% certain, but doors are slowly being open. All I can do is walk forward with faith.

“Behold, God is my salvation;
I will trust, and not be afraid;
for the Lord JEHOVAH is my strength and my song;
he also has become my salvation.”
-2 Nephi 22:2