To Love Thyself

It is no question the amount of pressure girls and women receive from media and social expectations when it comes to physical appearance. This isn't an uncommon subject, but I think it is important enough to repeat over and over, hopefully sparking personal revelations all over the world.

I am going to be honest and get it out there that I, like what I assume to be 99% of females, have not always been happy with my body. I've always had wide hips and thicker thighs that to this day cause me insecurity. Add the initial insecurity with the "freshman fifteen (or whatever...)", and I've been pretty down on my body. So I decided to get my butt in gear and do something about it... I was so tired of hating my bodily appearance. HATING to see myself in the mirror...to try on clothes... All because I gained some weight. How crazy is it that a few pounds can totally alter our view of ourselves?

Freshman Year of High School: (I was not in practice of taking pictures of myself for the purpose of showing my weight....Come to think of it, I still don't do that. So here are some ridiculous pictures from 2009...) I was 125 lbs. I Thought I had big thighs then... Heh. I couldn't fit into a size 9 jean if my life depended on it. Not if it had to button, that is.

I began working out. Maybe too much... More than my body knew how to handle because every time I thought I should stop, the thoughts of "Keep going so you can be thinner." "DO MORE SO YOU CAN BE PRETTIER." came running back, taking over my wills and pushed me farther than I should have. I spent a week hiding the fact I hurt so bad basic movement was an incredible feat. I realized I needed to be more practical or I was heading in a dangerous direction. That just eating less and working out until my limbs fall off is not what is healthy and I should be focusing on health rather than appearance. Because, really... Who am I giving precedence to when I focus on my looks? The looks that are dictated by society and personal opinions...Well, I'm putting the flesh first. Literally. To focus on being healthy is to show I care about the body I have been given.

Freshman Year of College: Uh...not 125 lbs. And not a size 9... (Not the greatest photo example, but Blogger is being a big jerk and not cooperating photo wise..)

 

 

 

 Initially when I started this "diet & exercise" thing, I wanted to write "Do something, you fat lard, and stop complaining!" on my bathroom mirror, but then decided to write:

"Glorify GOD by being healthy physically as well as spiritually."
That's exactly what I needed to do. I need to eat right and get some exercise to stay healthy so I can get the most out of the body and the life God has given me. It's only fair considering He gave His son, right?

But that doesn't particularly make it any easier...I often wish I could see myself through the eyes of others...Or even better, see myself as God sees me, because I am positive I am harder on myself than anyone actually views me. But what I really need to do is forget about what others are seeing of me on the outside and instead focus on my example and how people see me as a human rather than as simply flesh.

And while all of this is true, I still think it makes a difference in a girl's ability to be a godly example if she is down on herself. It is HARD to go on about normal life when you make extra effort to avoid looking at your body or have battles with yourself every morning when getting dressed or when you just are lacking in confidence.

I've let go of counting calories, but have paid more attention to my sodium, cholesterol, sugar, etc. intake. I stretch and do light workouts every morning with a more intense work out every other day. It's a step in the right direction. Even if I don't lose weight or tone up the way I want, I hope I can be happy with simply being healthy. With taking care of the body I have...because I won't be getting another one...ever. I hope I can one day be comfortable enough in my own body to be an example.

I realize that perception of physical beauty is not what is most important, but I definitely see the value in loving yourself. My view of my entire day is altered when I feel unhappy with my body.

No girl should ever think "I have to do [fill in blank] to be prettier.", whether it is exercising, eating right or what have you. Because to think it must be done for beauty is far from accurate. You are as beautiful as you see yourself. Not as beautiful as anyone else tells you...Or convinces you you will become if you do this or that. No.

Why is it so hard for us to just love ourselves? The only answer I've found is... THE OPINION OF OTHERS. Not just the opinion of others, but the unrealistic opinion and expectations of OURSELVES.
Whoa. Deep, huh?

I may not be the 125 lbs I was my Freshman year of High School... In fact, I'm going to be brave and go ahead say, the last time I weighed myself I was 143 at 5' 6".
 I may have freckles decorating my forehead. I may have a slightly bigger nose than what is often perceived as "beautiful". I may have bushy eyebrows (thankful for wax, though. Caterpillars. I'm telling ya) .


But I am beautiful. Now, I need to get healthy.

 

Book Review: The Glory Cloak

I always say I never have time to read, when in truth it is that I cannot allow myself to read. I fell in love with the sheer thought of books at a very young age, a love that has followed me to adulthood and that plunged me into writing in elementary school. So why cannot I not let myself read? Because I get lost in the world contained in the pages before me, my thoughts muddled by the fictional reality. I begin to neglect my responsibilities such as school, work, or you know, sleep and food. However, it just gives me one more thing to look forward to as summer approaches. Vacation is my time to lose myself in someone else through the imagination of others.
I decided to make a solo trip to the library last week, something I use to clear my head. My tactic when I go into a library with no specific intentions is to wander through aisles, picking up whatever book catches my attention. I stumbled upon the book I finished most recently, The Glory Cloak , through that very method. I think it is my most successful stumble to date.
 Patricia O'Brien creates quite the fictional tale, weaving together characters of her own creation with Louisa May Alcott, Clara Barton, and other Civil War era figures. While most of her story was born of her imagination, the bits of historical fact and persons really make this book special. While I do not agree with some of her word choices or descriptions, I have few complaints. I highly recommend it.

Find it here!

The Sailing Odyssey

Yard Sailing, that is.

I'm talking about thrifting...the yard's of others. On many occasions, yard sales are even cheaper than thrift stores. However, they take more strategy. You have to plot out your course to make the most of your day. The hardcore sailers get out early, so if you want to get your foot in the door for the good stuff, get there before other people. But how do I know there is anything good in the first place, Erin? Ah, well good question.

     Check the ads! The newspapers, the Internet, anywhere ads may be. Sit down with a nice cup of tea, your ads, a highlighter and a pen. Circle the ones that sound interesting, then pull out your map and list them in the order you want to go depending on distance. Star the ones you particularly want to hit. Also, here's a hint..If the add specifically lists something you are interested in AND gives a phone number, call! Ask them to hold it, and get there first thing. But don't be a big jerk and keep them waiting.

      Have cash! Checks are too sketchy and people don't want to risk it, and they can't take credit cards. Have change as well. You never know what you could get for that nickel.

      Profile. Just because you decide to check out a yard sale doesn't mean you actually have to get out of the car when you get there. If you see all they seem to have is clothes..and you really don't want clothes, keep moving. Time is junk...erm...treasure.

     Remember that a good cleaning can go really far. Just because something is dusty or dirty, it doesn't mean it isn't worth it. It is important to keep in mind that buying used might take a little more effort than buying brand new. So keep an open mind! Get creative!

     Learn to haggle...but don't be rude...or overly cheap. If you happen to know that necklace is worth $4, they're asking $2, don't ask if you can pay 25 cents.  If anything, ask a $1 or $1.50. Now, if someone is overpricing something, ask what you think it's worth. If they don't bite...you may have to walk away.


    Have fun. Even if you don't find anything, just enjoy your time.

I got up bright and early today to hit the sales with my mom. This is something I am hoping to make a usual happening this summer since I have nothing else to do.

I actually made a pretty good score today. I got  a lamp, a camera bag, and a portfolio for Dad. Not bad. Not bad at all.

For my Daddy.

I wrote this a few nights ago...when the topic was weighing heavy on my heart. I wrote until I could barely make sense of words any more. And while it may not be the best thing I have ever written, it is very true. My daddy has taught me so much. Although we don't ALWAYS get along or see eye to eye, he is my best friend.

When I was a kid, it was easy to see my dad as superhuman. Nothing scares him…nothing can hurt him. He is indestructible, he always has the right answers, and if he says something it is automatically true.

Eventually I realized that he isn’t the smartest or the strongest man in the world, but he is the most important in my world. He didn’t have the answer to everything, and that was ok. Sometimes, he got hurt or sick, and that was ok, too.

 

 

The most comforting arms to be in were his and his alone. It felt like he could protect me from everything. And then a day came when I became his protector. Few, or I hope few rather than many, have to experience what I did. Suddenly, I was spinning plates…Caretaker. Housekeeper. High school student…but really only wanting to be with him. I remember so vividly, holding his hand, so little life contained in his body, tracing the veins…the wrinkles…Thinking back to how many times in my life those hands held mine and led me where I needed to go. When they wiped my tears and took away my pain. How I wished I could take away his.

Although that was not the end, it changed everything. At every sign of abnormality, I drop to my knees, hot tears streaming down my face, and plead to God. Please, don’t take him yet…Give me more time. I know your will is best, God, but please… I still need him. But truth is, I will always need him. I will need him every day I walk this earth. And for the past three years I have feared the day that would mark the beginning of my life without him. This fear has weighed heavy on my decisions. I almost stayed home rather than going to Florida, just because of it. And even now, even though I love my time at school, I question if I made the right choice…How can I beg for more time, when I don’t take advantage of the time with him I have been given?

Every day I see him get a bit worse. I worry and I consider calling his doctor, because I am not ready to say good bye to my superhero. I know the day will come when our original role will swap and I will be his lifeline. Yet, even then I will need him more than he needs me.

My father has been my very best friend my entire life. He will never be in the health or the shape he was in. It kills me to see him weak when I still think of him as so strong.

The Bad Side

I think it sometimes comes across (to those other than the ones I am with all the time, at least) that I am always happy...that I try to find the good in everything. Which is true, I do try to find sometihng good in every situation because that's what I've learned I have to do to survive.

But sometimes, I get sad for no real reason.
It comes out of nowhere, is uncontrollable and the length of stay and severity is different each time.
I try not to say anything or act any different...we all have our sad feelings...so if maybe someone notices something and asks if I'm ok, I choke out an "I'm fine." and carry on. Because what else can we do but carry on?

Sometimes, though, the unexplainable pain is too much and the thoughts that come with it rage like a fire constantly being fueled with gasoline.
Thoughts of my every flaw, making me hate myself little by little until I can't take it and the tears appear out of no where, so I do my best to swallow them until I can run away. Problem here is...there isn't really anywhere I can run. Someone is always there and I don't want to burden them with my problems of thinking I'm just not good enough and nothing is going right.

Usually I can fight off the thoughts and emotions that saunter into my soul holding hands like it's no big deal if I keep busy. After a long day of classes and work, though, there is nothing stopping them. They pick up their weapons and they bash every bit of me, crushing me from the inside out.

Maybe I should talk to someone, but I can't seem to form the words "Oh, it's just one of those days where I really hate everything about myself and my life and can't seem to find good in anything..."

Tonight at dinner, the feelings came back and I found myself holding back tears with all that I had, but beginning to fail. So I left and headed back to the dorms, promising myself I can cry as soon as I get back to my room. I could collapse on my bad and finally call out in pain like I have needed to do for the past few days. But when I got to my room, my bed was gone. Everything was gone, actually... my roommates had taken all of my stuff to Sutton as a prank, so I fell on Kristina's bed and let my guard down, ruining the video they attempted to take of my reaction...

I heard the click of the door from Libby and Anissa's room, so I jumped up and rinsed off my face in attempts to wash away any signs of my breakdown. But as soon as Ariel entered the room, I just couldn't do it... I couldn't beat off the demons. I just forced myself into her embrace and cried.

After moving my things back to my room with the help of Ariel, Sarah and Hannah and trying to not cry in front of everyone in Hinley, I went into Anissa's room where Ariel was.
I asked her to lie in bed with me and for half an hour she just scratched my back and was there...not asking questions or even really talking... just being there.
I kept telling myself "She loves me...my friends love me...I am valuable. I have no reason to hate myself..." and for a time, it helped.
She got up to leave...and half of me wanted to scream "Please don't leave me alone...", but the other half, the one that always seems to win argued, "No. Let her go...don't be selfish. This is why you try not to let people see this side of you." Really, though, I don't know if she can understand how much that meant to me. For her to just be there...

So, yes, while I would overall describe myself as happy and optimistic, I do have days where I cannot stand who I am. Where I feel so alone and empty and worthless that sometimes it is struggle to convince myself it will be worth it to get out of bed. But those days are not the majority, and I know I have people who can get my mind off of it.
So for now, I will go on and pretend the feelings don't exist. I will argue with myself and fight it.

But now, I have to go put my stuff back where it belongs...and maybe wash my sheets. I don't trust the cleanliness of upstairs Sutton.

"When all else fails"

It isn't uncommon for things to happen that we just do not and cannot understand. This can be in our personal lives or the lives of everyone in the nation.

The attack in Boston today has me jolted. When seeing the news online today,  my heart sank and I just thought, "Oh, please, no..." It seems like as soon as the country is able to stand back up after one tragedy it is knocked down by another.
When the earth beneath us is suddenly shaking without ceasing and we cannot regain our balance, the population decides to turn to God. We realize we aren't going to be able to keep upright without help from something beyond the physical and we cry out "Oh my God!" this time not in vain, but in distress. We plead for help, for just a boost because we finally see that we can't do it alone. We can't stop the earth from shaking.
It is in times of pain and panic that we turn to God for peace. We pray for ourselves and those who may be grieving or lost or scared. We ask for comfort, for answers, for something to get us through.
I sit in the same desk in psychology every day. Scribbled in the corner, someone has written (here's a big nod to the fact I go to a Christian school) "God does not forget us in our distress, so why should be forget Him in our abundance?"

When the earth is shaking and we cannot stand, we cry out to Him. But when it calms and we can safely pull ourselves out of the rubble and walk the streets with joy in our hearts, we don't think we need Him anymore.

I think we are all guilty of this at some point, myself included. I praise God for guiding me through my challenges, but do I praise Him for just being? For caring for me when I mistakenly put Him on the back burner.

This happens every time a tragedy occurs in America. I am no by any means saying it is particularly bad. But when something such as this atrocity in Boston happens that FaceBook friends pop up with "Praying" or "Pray for"... Friends who it is, honestly, a surprise that they apparently believe in God at all. And wow did that sound judgemental of me.

It is like "when all else fails, I'll turn to God..."
When it should be that we face God at all times, knowing that when all else fails He will still be there.

Although is world will one day end, God is never ceasing.
"God does not forget us in our distress, so why should we forget Him in our abundance?"

I am praying for those affected by the tragedy in Boston today and I am praying for those who caused it. I am also thanking God for those who escaped unscathed, physically, and for the blessings all around us. But mainly, I am thanking Him for sending His son to die so we have the opportunity to leave this sinful, terrifying world and spend eternity with Him in heaven.

We All Have Our Purpose

I've been wanting to write about this particular topic for a while now, but wanted to wait until the perfect words came to me. I want to get my point across and I want it to make an impact. This is something very important to me and especially to my teacher heart.

Sometimes we use words without fully considering the meaning. We don't realize that using them in certain ways manipulates the meaning without getting it away from context and that this can cause a lot of hurt to people. Those of you who really know me know about my hate of "R" word, retard or retarded. I gave a speech on it last semester, in fact.

The word retard means (taken from dictionary.com)
verb (used with object)

1.

to make slow; delay the development or progress of (an action, process, etc.); hinder or impede.

verb (used without object)

2.

to be delayed.

noun

3.

a slowing down, diminution, or hindrance, as in a machine.

4.

Slang: Disparaging.

a.

a mentally retarded person.

b.

a person who is stupid, obtuse, or ineffective in some way: a hopeless social retard.

 

 

Now, notice #4. Slang:Disparaging. Well, what does disparaging mean?

1.

to speak of or treat slightingly; depreciate; belittle: Do not disparage good manners.

2.

to bring reproach or discredit upon; lower the estimation of: Your behavior will disparage the whole family.

 

 

 

I know that is all boring and technical, but I mention it to make a point. People generally use the word retarded in the slang form, connecting it to foolish, childish, or just plain stupid behavior. The problem is, this word is linked to individuals with special needs. So by saying that your friend is retarded when he does something stupid is like saying "You're acting like you have Down syndrome." or "Dude, you sound like you're autistic." And that is not alright.

 

I invite you to take a moment and think about your interactions with those who have special needs and how you felt, what you thought, when you were around them. Did you take pity? Think about how that person "will never be able to...fill in the blank" or did you look at them like you would any other person. Wonder what his/her hobbies are. Think about what job the person may have. Consider everything that person could or has accomplished in this life.

Naturally, we tend to look at them in pity. Look at their families in pity. But, do we consider that maybe pity is not what they're looking for, but acceptance?

 

Every person in this world has purpose and meaning. Maybe she has Down syndrome and has to work a little harder to learn something. So what?

Maybe he has Cerebral Palsy and drools and doesn't speak clearly.

Maybe he is autistic and doesn't always know how to communicate.

None of that changes purpose. Maybe if we took the time to look at these people as just that, people, like ourselves, we could see the wonder, magic, and possibility they bring to our world. Maybe we could see what they can teach us.

 

And THAT is why I hate the word retard or retarded... Because these people are not stupid. They learn differently, but that does not mean they are dumb and will amount to nothing. I will not use it in that way. I scold my friends and the children at work for using it.

 

I urge you to consider your words and how they affect others. Take the time to check out some blogs of families with members who have special needs to see that pity is not needed.