Somehow The Words Flow Freely Now

God, how am I supposed to act?
What am I supposed to be?
Do I force myself to change?
Or should I do what comes naturally?

You teach me about morals and love
What about my personality?
Am I supposed to adapt and adjust?
Or revel in my idiosyncrasies?

Should I be vulnerable?
Or should I guard my heart?
Show me the line between showing love
And needlessly tearing myself apart.

How am I supposed to learn from my past
If I’m being told otherwise.
What if these lessons I thought I had learned
Are making me foolish instead of wise?

I’m all worried about implications and results
But not thinking about what I’m doing now
I’m worried about doing the wrong thing
I’m worried I’ll break my internal vows.

Everything in my life has taught me one thing
But now I need another way?
Can I make the choice to do what’s not safe?
Will I just be thrown away?

I can endure and fight through what is thrown at me
But do I dare start the fight myself?
God, I have no idea how to handle this all
Don’t keep the answer to yourself.

I’m scared.  I’m scared out of my mind.
I’d do anything to not go back to that place
And yet the only way for this to work out
Is taking the same steps I tried to erase?

My methods of coping and prevention
Are causing nothing but pain.
Show me God.  Just show me the way.
But don’t let me go there again.

You’re the one who guides my heart.
You’re the one who will will never forsake me.
Let me be open and obedient to you.
God, let me be free.

“You Wronged Me… And I’m Okay With That”

Think about that person… You know who I’m talking about.  The one you love to hate.  The best friend who back-stabbed you.  The girl who cheated on you.  The guy who didn’t care that you said “stop.”  The father who was never there for you.  The mother who would rather perfect you than love you.  Go ahead.  Think about how much it hurt.  Think about how angry it makes you.  And think about forgiving them.

Yeah, I’m going there.  Forgiving that person you can’t forgive.  Um, hello.  Welcome to my life.   This is something I’ve struggled with FOR YEARS and now I’m talking about it.

I thought about it.  I thought about all the terrible things that people have done to me.  And I realized that a lot of those people are Christians.  And those sins that were done against me, are covered by Christ’s blood and God’s grace.  Those who aren’t Christians… They could be my brothers and sisters in Christ one day and the same rule applies to them.

The worst wrongs ever done to me.  God says to them “I forgive you.  I do not hold this against you.” So why can’t I say that?  I hated thinking this.  I knew I didn’t forgive these people and yet God could.

But then I thought… I’m no saint and I’m sure anyone who has known me well enough could agree with that.  You know those people that get up in front of church/chapel/small group/etc and say “I am a sinner.  I am not perfect.” and the crowd nods and murmurs “amen” while they think about how they themselves are not perfect?   Yeah, well I’m the person that gets up, says “I am a sinner.  I am not perfect.” and every person in the crowd that knows me laughs and says “I know that’s right!”

I know I have hurt people.  I know I have wronged people.  But I also know that God has forgiven me for that, and that grace?  That undeserved gift?  That mercy?  I didn’t do anything special to earn it… and neither did those people that have wronged me.  It is completely WRONG that I should receive the gift that Christ’s death has given me, but you know what else is wrong?  The fact that I accept it for myself but don’t think it should apply to those people.

God is good, merciful, and forgiving.  Maybe I think those people shouldn’t be forgiven, but hey, neither should I.  And you know what else?  This world does not matter.  It is not what is important.  I am waiting for the better days of life to come in heaven.  And one day all the mess and crap of this world will be gone. One day, it will not matter that you hurt me and I think that is a beautiful prospect.   I cannot wait for the day that this world passes and it’s just God and His kingdom.

To all the people I’ve held grudges against… to those who apologized and never hear me utter these words… I am sorry and I forgive you.  I understand that what you did was wrong and yeah, you hurt me.  But God is greater than my pain and my hope is in Him.  I hope you have found your freedom in Him as well and that I can one day stand side by side with you and we can praise Him together.

Thinking like this has really helped me understand the cross more… It’s one thing to feel the weight of my sin and guilt, but it is a whole ‘nother thing to think that through the cross that person that wronged me the most can be made my brother/sister in Christ – that we can be reconciled together as forgiven creations of God.  Like seriously, holy cow God is good.  I would love nothing more to be able to look that person in the eye and not only be able to say “I forgive you” but also be able to rejoice with them in the fact that Christ has forgiven them as well.   God is good ALL THE TIME and I’m glad He does not turn people away who ask for His forgiveness like I have.

You know, I once thought “There’s no way I could ever forgive them for what they did to me…” but silly me I forgot that “I can do ALL things through CHRIST who strengthens me.”

Vows

Being a counseling major and taking a lot of psychology classes, I often run into a concept called “internal vows.”  These are promises we make to ourselves or rules we live our lives by, often used as a coping mechanism or a way of protecting ourselves.  So I wondered what kinds of vows I make to myself.  I discovered that most of my “vows” were refusals.  So I compiled them together into a list.  I am not saying that all of these are healthy, I am not saying that I still live by all of these, and, of those I do live by, I am not saying I do a very good job of it either.   Some of them are very old ones I have grown out of, some are very old ones I still stick by today, and some are very new.

I refuse…

-to stay put
-to not be heard
-to be a doormat
-to be seen as nagging
-to live like life is a formula
-to think I am not important
-to not take control of my life
-to let you see how you’ve hurt me
-to give you the chance to hurt me
-to sit in a cycle of problems I can fix
-to conform to what you want me to be
-to make foolish decisions in order to be “nice”
-to pick at the little problems I should let go of
-to let my anger control my tongue… ˅ or if it does ˅
-to be immature by plastering the internet with my emotions.
(There are SO many blog drafts I’ve deleted because of this rule)
-to EVER have anyone hear me verbally disrespecting my parents
-to make guarantees or ultimate refusals that you can hold against me
-to be sucked into a situation where I am stuck feeling like I’m not myself
-to not step up to a role I have the capability, resources, and desire to fill
-to be an unnecessary problem, annoyance, or hindrance to someone else
-to be disappointed in ways I’ve been before and should have learned from

(yes, I had to structure it into a pyramid… haha)  These are just the ones I could think of off the top of my head, so I know I left some out, but it was interesting to see what makes me tick the way I do.  I wonder what kinds of effects these vows have had on my life… or why some rules could cause me to break another, and yet I choose to follow both.  It’s just all around interesting.

What are some rules that you live YOUR life by?

Prayer in the Night

Father give me eyes to see, because I no longer know what I’m doing.
What once was lost, I want to find again, but I don’t know how to pursue it.
So many prayers, tears, dreams.  They all seem to be in vain.
It’s restless nights like these that just leave me feeling drained.
Why did I have to remember?  Why did I have to see?
Why did I have to be reminded of how much it broke me?
I promised  “You ask I will answer.” If I ask, will You do the same?
Guide me Lord to do what’s right.  I don’t want to live in shame.
As much as this is uncomfortable, I’d be a fool to abandon it.
Now open my eyes.  Give me new life.  To Your path I will commit.

Lockdown

I saw a blog the other day that was just pictures and small captions of how the picture represented how the blogger was feeling.  So I thought to myself, what would I be if I was a picture?  But that’s about as far as I got with that thought.

However, with a lot of  new things in my life lately, I’ve been analyzing how I feel and trying to figure out why I feel that way.   I’ve been confusing myself A LOT lately, I can feel great about something one minute… but then apprehensive about it the next and with no reason to feel that way.  I’ve been finding myself worried about things that make me happy.

That’s when my picture popped in my head… only I couldn’t actually take a picture of it… so I drew it.


That’s me.  Steel plated, chained, and locked.   And I like it that way.   Why?  Because it’s safer.   I’ve got Jesus in here with me.  My family has a natural ability to loosen the chains and melt the steel.  I have a friend or two that I unlock it for on occasion.  But someone new?  I don’t think I can let in anyone new.

If there’s anything life has shown me in the past two years, it’s that appearances can be deceiving.  I have too many people in my life who seem to have good intentions that end up being fickle or manipulative.  People I think I can trust, prove themselves otherwise.

I trust people that I’ve known for years, but letting someone new in is just too risky.  I mean yes there are people I feel like I can learn to trust, but they are rare, few and far between, and it will be a long time before that can happen.  I just get this feeling about them.. this feeling that I can trust them.  Like the feeling I got about my friend in my last post.  The problem is, I barely ever meet people I feel like I can trust.

I have made the mistake of trusting people that I haven’t had that feeling about and it hasn’t turned out well.  So until I have a better grasp of how to determine who I can let in, I’m on lock down. God’s got a lot of work to do here…. these are things I should talk about at oasis….

The point being, this hurts me and it hurts those around me.  Because there are people in my life that feel promising, but I just haven’t gotten that “ya, they’re good.”  Connect with them yet.  No confirmation.  I can act like we’ve got that connect, but I can’t actually let the openess and vulnerability happen.  I’m afraid of hurting people, because the longer I’m on this fence of “can I trust them or not?” the closer I get to shut down mode.  I become hypersensitive to their every action, and if they do one little thing to worry me, my mind blows it up out of proportion and I hide from them.

I’ve been in this “I can’t let myself get hurt” mindset for a while now, and was actually getting better at bringing my walls down.  But wouldn’t you know just when I think I can let loose, things just blow up in my face again.  The walls are back up people.

So ya, I may be transparent on here, but I’m not telling you guys everything.  And yes, I can be good friends with people, but there’s a level of comfort and openness missing from a lot of relationships for me on the inside.

People can’t be trusted.  That is a fact.   I’m not naive to think there are people that are ALWAYS trustworthy.  But frankly, I’m only interested in risking that trust on people that I know are important enough in my life to get past the times they let me down.  And I specifically use the phrase “let me down.”  I know my family will let me down, but they will never betray me.  I know my best friends will let me down, but they will never carelessly hurt me.  I trust those who I know want to treat me in love, even in their mistakes.  And if I don’t know whether or not you will betray me or carelessly hurt me, chances are you’re not going to be trusted with very much.

At this point, I’m rambling.  So ya… I’m trying to remember that loving someone does not mean you trust them.  I’m trying to learn who I can let in.  I’m trying to figure out why I’m so apprehensive about things that make me happy and only seem to be good.  I’m trying to be careful while at the same time not hurting people.  And I’m trying to protect myself.   “Above all else guard your heart” (what exactly does that mean????)  I know Satan does a good job of snaring me in anger and holding grudges.  So I’m protecting myself even more than normal, because, yes I don’t want to be hurt, but even more so… I don’t want to get caught up in anymore anger than I have been already.

Ugh… where am I going with this?

Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you… the world’s worst ending to a blog post….. pineapples.

To that friend…

It’s been awhile since I last posted a blog, so I wanted to write one today.  I’ve had something I’ve wanted to try to say somehow, but I couldn’t really figure out how to do it.  Then I realized I could write this post to a friend that brings a lot of the topic I want to discuss to light.  Plus sometimes it’s fun to just write out a story about life from my perspective.   Obviously, you shouldn’t think you know a whole story until you hear every side, but I don’t think I will compromise anything by writing this.  Plus this friend and I are the only two in the story, so I can’t think of many people who could even know who it is.  So, wooo… you guys get to read what I’d like to tell one of my friends.  Who knows, maybe that person will read this and actually understand a very confusing situation we’ve been in.  Tally ho!





Friend,

You know, I don’t understand you.  You confuse me more than anyone else.  Not because of anything you’ve done, but because of how I react to you.  You see, whenever I meet a new guy, my guard is always up.  My trust barrier is harder to get through.  I am suddenly hyper sensitive of my surroundings.  I am very physically reserved.  I am uncomfortable.  Even my guy friends that I met the same time as you and am very comfortable with now, they were a threat to me when I first met them.  Basically, I go into protection mode.  (If you haven’t seen this… well, I like to think I’m good at hiding it.  And if you have seen it… well then crap, maybe I’m not so good at it.)

You were different.  I wasn’t afraid of you.  I felt like myself.  You didn’t make me feel like I had to question your every movement.   I wasn’t afraid to let loose.  I was comfortable in my own skin.  And the strangest part about it, is you of all people should have been sending me into protection mode.  So many things about you are a perfect set up for me keeping my distance, but I didn’t feel that necessity.  I felt like I was getting better.  You made me feel like I was getting better.  You made me comfortable again.  The first guy in a long time that I wasn’t wary of deep down the first time I met them and had no problems with after that.  It made me happy, confident, bold, hopeful, the list goes on.  I was succeeding…or so I thought.

Then came that night that I asked you for that hug.  Now mind you, before I went to you I had been set off into a very weak state both mentally and emotionally.  I had been twisted and pulled in every direction.  The confidence I was building and I thought I had secured over the past several months had been shattered in the matter of a short 20 minute conversation.  One person’s ignorance blew every feeling of growth and success that I had out of the water.  Bam.   I didn’t know what to do, but then I remembered the way you made me feel.  The comfort and security that you brought.  The sense that I was alright… that things would get better.  I could have gone to any friend to talk about it, but I didn’t want to talk about it.  I just wanted to know that things were getting better.  I wanted to prove to myself that I was strong enough the handle it.   So what did I do?   I asked a tall, intimidating, male friend for a hug…. I asked you.

There I was, walking to meet you.  Thinking to myself, “I’ll give him a hug and it will be normal.  Today was tough, but I still have this last reserve.  I may be hanging by a string, but at least it’s something and something is better than nothing.”  You walked out and it was a little awkward at first.  I wasn’t really in the mood to say much.  But I just told myself all I needed was that hug and I was good.  So, you did what I thought I needed.   You wrapped your arms around me in a friendly embrace…and the last thing I expected or wanted happened.

Anxiety took over my entire body.  I felt nauseous.  Dizzy.  My head ached.  My hands got sweaty.  My face was flushed.  I spaced out from reality and my mind went reeling to places I had been trying to forget.  I felt mute.  small.  broken.   My last string had been clipped.  My one reserve, my last line of confidence, my proof to myself that I was getting past it all had just become like all the others.  And that killed me inside.   I tried to leave.  I wanted to get away from you as quick as possible.   A large part of me just wanted to break down sobbing.  I also wanted to puke on the rocks down by our feet.  I wasn’t sure what would happen first, the crying or the puking, but all of the sudden you became the last person in the world that I wanted to see me in that state.  But you wouldn’t let me go as easily as I wanted.  You offered to drive me back to my apartment, and I figured that was better than getting on the shuttle in front of a bunch of other people who would see me as a wreck.

As we took the short trip to my place, you asked what was going on.  I wanted to tell you.  I swear I wanted to tell you so bad.  But everything I could think of saying sounded so stupid, or just got caught in my throat.  I found myself rambling on like a fool in the most vague way possible.  You stopped your car outside of my apartment and I sat there yelling at myself in my head to just tell you.  To just spill.  But I couldn’t.  I was so mad at myself.  So lost.  I tried to say something and it didn’t even make any grammatical sense and I couldn’t take it anymore.  I ended up slamming your car door and bee-lining to my apartment.  I felt so stupid.  You had been gracious, patient, understanding… and I acted like a mute gorilla with the flu.  I then furiously typed out this post.  I thanked you later on over facebook chat, but everything from there on out felt so wrong.  Nothing made sense anymore.  I couldn’t find that sense of security I had been cultivating.  I was out of it for a good couple of weeks.  Days bashing myself for being stupid, questioning you in my head for why you were being distant, convincing myself that you thought I was insane.  Nights stuck in my mental swamp, furiously writing away on notebook paper with markers,  waking up on the rainbow colored pages the next morning that had somehow become tear stained.  Things were a mess.

I’ve collected myself since then.  I’m learning how to handle those moments that I become overwhelmed with anxiety like with that hug.  I’m creating my own sense of security.   I’m  working on being able to differentiate from perception and reality, and not letting my perceptions have more weight over me than reality.   It’s safe to say I wish I hadn’t been so quick to think I needed you.  I wish I had realized I am not strong enough on my own sooner.

And yes, you still confuse me.  I have not had a moment like that from interacting with you since.  And I have even more reasons to go into protection mode whenever I’m around you than I had before.   But I don’t.  I don’t know why you’re the only one who’s been like this for me… but I do want to thank you.  Because you have been a step forward for me in this journey.  I’d like to think that there will be more people that I don’t have any reaction to when I first meet them just like you.  I’m still on edge.  Still afraid that I’ll break again.  I even get shy around you.  Crazy but true.  If you get too close to me I can’t look you in the eyes.  I don’t know if you noticed this.  Sometimes I think that shyness/nervousness is a precursor to another meltdown, but it never gets past that.  So ya, you confuse me.  I’ve been shot into anxiety ridden protection mode from you.  You have all the qualities to keep me there, and yet you don’t.  I’m losing my ease to be bold when we’re around each other, because I find myself mumbling and looking down at the floor in nervous laughter to keep myself positive and sane.   BUT, at least you at least give me hope.    Hope that there will be more like you.  Hope that I can some how feel normal again, because you made me feel normal.  So thank you friend.  I know I can be very confusing, but maybe we can have an actual conversation about this one day.  Until then, I’ll try not to mumble 😛

-Kels

That Monster

Uncontrollable.  That’s how I feel.
Like no matter how hard I try to get a hold of this, its always got a leg up on me.

Just when I think I finally have it into a manageable system.
BAM

Stress.  Anxiety.  Fatigue.

It’s debilitating.
I can’t focus.

My mind becomes consumed by it.

I want to convince myself that its not real, or that it’s not as bad as I’m making it out to be.
But then this monster shows its true colors and strikes me down again.

…But why?
What is it that makes me feel this way?
What is it that constantly brings this all back to mind?
What is it that causes me to lose focus on all else?

And why does my head say one thing… but the rest of me won’t register.

I KNOW you are good, and honest, and that you have a lot of integrity… but my body tells me not to trust you.

Why?  Maybe it’s the way you laugh, or the things you’re interested in, or how you interact with people.  Maybe it’s the way you look, or the names you call me, or just the fact that you are what you are.

You can’t change it.  I’m trying to change it.
I’m just not strong enough.

Prayer prayer prayer.  but I only find myself in set backs.

It’s getting harder, not easier.  This isn’t how it should be.

Do you understand what I’m telling you?
Sometimes, I can’t give a friend a hug without being struck dumb with fear and overcome with nausea.
Sometimes, if I’m sitting too close to someone in a car or on the couch, it feels like everything is closing in on me.
Sometimes, a single, unrelated word will send memories flooding back into my head… and I find myself debating whether to try to drown it out with numbness or write it out like I am now.
Sometimes, I’m just fine or I can suppress it just enough to the point that you can’t see it- and that’s what makes it even more confusing to everyone around me.  Because when they see it, it’s out of the blue.  I can see it crawling slowly in.

And every time this happens, I have zero ability to articulate what’s going on.  My mouth becomes paralyzed.  It’s been this way since the beginning.  If I could explain what was going on right then and there, I would find a way to.  I don’t like leaving people feeling confused, helpless, or in the dark, because I’m all too familiar with those feelings.

I want to prove to myself that I can be stronger, but this monster does everything it can to prove that I am weaker.

I feel God’s love in this all, but I am still wrestling and hurting.  And that’s ok.  It’s the beast of this world.  The reality of a fallen creation.  My joy is in the Lord.  I may not keep a smile on my face, but I can feel his presence and love in my heart.

So do me a favor:
-Don’t try to fix me.  Because I don’t need “fixing.”  I need help- Assistance.  And you can’t help me.  Unless you are a licensed professional, you have no human means of helping me.  So don’t.
-Don’t give me an interrogation of sad, heartfelt questions or the constant sympathetic looks from across the room.  This is my problem, not yours.  And I get that you’re upset for me, but don’t let me know.  I don’t need to feel guilty for you feeling sad that I’m stuck in this.  I don’t need that extra weight.  I just need my life to be normal.  I need people to be around me, and I need them to be normal.   So that I have the promise of at least something in my life to not be tainted by this.
-Don’t try giving me words of wisdom, heart-warming songs, comforting passages from the Bible.  I see the truth and beauty behind it all, but you don’t have the filter that I have.   You don’t see the definitions and implications of certain words like I do.  And sometimes, those verses you find so fitting and beautiful, make me feel like absolute crap.
-Don’t try to explain it to me, especially if you have no clue what is going on.  A lot of times the things you will say will either make me mad at God or convince me that it’s all my fault.  And that’s the last thing I need.

I’m trying to learn to articulate my struggles and my frustrations in a way that’s clear.  Because anyone who hasn’t been through this before will not understand it, and they end up doing the exact opposite of what I need.

It’s looming over my head.  I know that there’s a big bomb about to be dropped.  I write this to prepare you and myself for when that bomb explodes.

Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?

WARNING:  FEMALE BODIES AHEAD

Can I be honest with you?  Like really really honest?

I have hated my body for years.

(This is the point where all 3 people reading this will sigh because the ‘honest’ statement was kind of a give in.)

I mean really, what female these days doesn’t have something she doesn’t like about her body?

I’ve been noticing a lot of self-image stuff lately… And not in a good way.

Like on Pinterest, every day there’s posts like this:

A picture like this shows up entitled “PERFECT BODY!” and  “Inspiration!”

I don’t know about you guys… but I’m concerned about that woman’s nutrition.  I can see her ribs on both her sides and up at her collar bones.  Her abdomen is so thin I wonder if she is able to menstruate in a healthy pattern.  And she has so little muscle I can only imagine how weak she is…

Part of me feels terrible for ripping apart her body, and at the same time – we need a wake up call!

Media’s image of “perfect” is unhealthy!

A photo has recently been circulating the internet, trying to get people to realize how crazy our demands on the female body are.


This is today’s “plus sized” model.  With surgical lines drawn to depict how much her body would have to be altered to achieve the Barbie body.

uhmm… THAT’S NUTS PEOPLE!  Like really, really nuts!  (not to mention the fact that she’s considered PLUS SIZED)

Now let’s get personal…

WARNING: MY FEMALE BODY AHEAD

In 4th grade, my sister and my neighbor told me I stood like a banana and that I looked like a duck.

In 6th grade, my teacher separated the class pulling all but me and one girl aside saying that the other girls were skinny and us two leftovers… not so much.

In 7th grade, a fellow classmate called me a beached whale.

In 8th grade, a boy told me he was “OK” with me being somewhat chubbier than the other girls he knew.

In 9th grade, someone asked me if I had ever considered breast reduction surgery.

In 10th grade, a man asked if my sister and I were twins.  When we told him that Haley was older, he looked confused and said to me “But you are fatter!”

I could go on and on.

Word sting.  And they all have added to the lens of how I have looked at myself for the past who knows how many years.

One of the most difficult things for me is that I have been the SAME height and weight since 7th grade.  I am 5’5.5” and I weigh 145lbs.   As a sophomore in college, it’s not a really big deal anymore… but as a 7th grader.  That was a big deal (no pun intended).

Until 10th grade, I was always taller than the boys around me.   I was always bigger than my gal pals.  People were always commenting on my wide hips, which have lovingly been entitled “the harding hips” since they seem to run in my family.

-My friends always had the flat-hey-if-I-flex-you-can-see-my-six-pack bellies.
-They had the small, cute, perky boobs.
-They had the thighs that didn’t touch each other when they stood straight.
-They had the arms that didn’t wiggle when they brushed their teeth.

Add onto that, that I come from a family of very thin women.
-My mom decided to join my dad on his diet and her friends told her to stop before she got too skinny.
-My oldest sister played soccer for her college on scholarship and understandably had that great athletic body.
-My other older sister could wear any new trend without having cleavage spill out everywhere or her body look like a pregnant potato.
-My youngest sister is a straight bean pole.  She’s got runway body.

Then there’s me.
-In a family of thin girls, I got the curves.
-In a family of athletic girls, I got the asthma and the side stitches.
-In a family of smaller-chested girls, I got enough boobage for all 4 of us daughters.


I have never thought I was overweight or too fat.  But ever since 4th grade, I always saw myself as that “Could lose some poundage” kind of person.

That’s changed.  Dramatically.

How?


In 12th grade, I had someone tell me that my body is the exact type that psychologically communicates “fertile” to men…and therefor makes it attractive.  Being someone who wants to be mother, that struck me in a positive way despite the fact that they had just likened me to a psychological sign of a breeding ground.

In my first semester of college, I did some research and discovered that I have the exact same measurements as Marilyn Monroe – she owned sexiness like none other.

and in the past year, God has shown me value of being made in His image.

I am a representation of HIM.   I reflect His glory, His creativity, and His beauty.   There is nothing more peaceful than looking into the mirror and seeing “loved” and “made in His image” instead of “chubby” and “awkward.”


Honestly, I think the cherry on top was dying my hair red (pun intended… hopefully you got it).   I like to tell people that my hair color is like my personality… too crazy to be normal… but too normal to be crazy.  It’s what made me see myself as… well, me.

I recently looked in the mirror at myself.  Red hair.  Big nose.  Wide hips.  Scars.  Stretch marks.  Cellulite.  and all.  And I loved it.

I took a picture of myself, and wrote in black what I used to see and in red what I remind myself of every time I start to hate on my body.

I didn’t see a lack of “beauty.” – I saw “unique” which made it beautiful.

I didn’t see “fat.” – I saw “full and soft” which reminded me I was healthy and feminine.

I didn’t see an “awkward girl.” – I saw a woman, confident and comfortable with who she was.

The best part was walking away from the mirror, and realizing that I was also PMSy and bloated.


I am beautiful.

I will tell myself that every time I look down at the rolls on my belly, or the stretch marks on my legs, or my jiggling arms, or my bumpy, curved nose.

I have a healthy youthful body.  And I will continue to remind myself that I am made in God’s image even when I’m saggy and wrinkled.   If I marry someone, he will be the kind of guy who wants to work out with me because he wants me to be healthy, not because he wants me to look different – and he will see me as beautiful and tell me that despite the world’s definitions of my imperfections.

This clay is learning to be comfortable with the way the potter made her.

So embrace who you are and how you look.

Remind yourself that you are made in God’s image
which makes you beautiful in it of itself.

Remember that unique is beautiful, not uniformity –
and confidence is attractive, not worry.

Find the positive.  Cherish the “negative.”

And never forget to…

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

You look back on yesterday and things finally make sense
But today is a riddle, leaving you in suspense

One day I hope my answers will be found
That I’ll understand today and the events it surrounds

I know to not expect what I think will play out
But that lack of expectation fills me with doubt

And yet I’ll hope for a tomorrow better than my dreams
Cause God can work out plans with greater ends than they seem

So here’s to hoping, wishing, and praying for answer
And here’s to looking forward to His glory thereafter