Finally Going There

Earlier today, I was chatting with a friend, and she asked me how I decided what to write my posts about. My response was simple: "I write about what's on my mind. And when I want to write and don't know what to write about, I ask God what he would have me write about." 

But I am realizing that that second option is a little dangerous. The first time I asked God to give me something to write about, it was a post that made me uncomfortable. It was a little too close to home, a personal struggle that I disliked sharing. But I wrote it, and I believe it brought glory to God.

Last week, I asked God to lead me in writing another post. The topic that came to mind was once again uncomfortable. It was something that I don't even talk about with my closest friends. So I pushed it aside. But I can't get it out of my head. I've been mentally writing it for days, so here we are. 

Welcome to my uncomfortable post. Please bear with me as I learn to write about things I refuse to speak of in person. I am finally going there.

Body image. Women speaking negatively about their bodies. Comparisons. Insecurities. Being fat. Being skinny. That's where we are headed. Phew. In order to get through this one, I'm sitting on my balcony, drinking coffee, wrapped in a blanket, soaking in the view of the Black Sea and listening to the birds chirping. We can do this. As you read, join me in this pretty place. Grab a cup of coffee, a blanket, or whatever you need in order to address the dreaded topic of self-image. 

I have listened to friends talk about their self-image and bodily insecurities for a long time -- for the last fourteen years. And I have tried to lovingly speak truth into that area of their minds. I think I, on the other hand, had my first semi-personal conversation about my bodily insecurities two years ago. My friend and I were [pretending to be] studying for a test. It was late. We didn't care about the test. We procrastinated by talking about anything and everything. After a rant about modesty and swimming suits, we entered the realm of females and issues with their bodies. I finally said it.

"You know, I think it's interesting that ____ and ____ always talk about how their ____ are ____ and ____ is _____ and they need to eat less and work out more. They say they're too fat. But I am clearly bigger than them. What does that make me?"

My friend stared at me. She confidently said, "I don't think they have ever thought about that. I haven't ever thought about it while they are putting themselves down." 

Maybe they never thought about it. This other friend never thought about it. But every time those girls verbally abused their bodies, they unknowingly verbally abused mine. They promoted greater self-loathing in my life. 

And I never told them. I never told anyone except that one friend. And I haven't really talked about the insecurities I have with my body since then.

This summer, my friends regularly attended a Bible study that I came to whenever I was in town. I missed the night they discussed how they view their bodies. I heard multiple friends talk about how good it was. They spoke the lies they believed. They affirmed one another's beauty. I listened and silently thanked the LORD that I missed that one. 

I couldn't go there. I couldn't talk about that. I couldn't actually confess that I think my ____ is too ____ and I'm not ____ enough or that if I was only a size ____, I would feel more confident.

To a certain point, I still can't go there. I don't think it would be healthy for any of us for me to fill in those blanks here on the internet. It only further promotes the comparison game. If your ____ is more ____ than mine, or your ____ is less ____ than mine, you might jump into your own negative thinking. And reader, I do not want that for you. I don't want that for any of us. 

Instead, I want something more. I want something better. 

Earlier this year, I was reunited with some friends. They had all lost weight, toned up some muscles, wore cute clothes, and had put on some great make-up and styled their hair well. I don't think that's bad.

But that's not what I did. The stress of living overseas these last two years has made it easier for me to gain weight and harder to lose it. Even though my lifestyle choices haven't really changed, my body's response to normal life has. Other than at my cousin's wedding, I haven't worn make-up since before moving to Ghana. That's right; I have somehow switched from my mindset of needing foundation to cover my acne no matter what to a mindset where I don't hate and feel the need to compulsively cover my natural face. Thank you, Jesus.

Unlike those friends, I hadn't lost weight, hadn't toned up some muscles, was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, had no make-up on, and didn't do anything special to my hair. 

My friends and I stood in the doorway hugging one another and sharing the excitement of the reunion. And then they began to compliment one another. "You look so small. That shirt is so cute." Etc. Etc. The compliments were not well received; they just threw compliments back at each other saying that the other was more _____.

I stood there being myself, attempting to be comfortable with who I am now and realizing that they are making "progress" in getting closer to physically being the ideal woman while I am not. I felt so insecure. 

They probably didn't even think about it. Why would they? But I couldn't get it out of my mind. 

This isn't meant to be a pity party. Nor is this meant to be a passive aggressive stab at those wonderful women. This post is an attempt to be honest about my own insecurity. It's meant to challenge you in your image of yourself and others. It's meant to change the way you speak about yourself and to others.

There have been times where I have been on the other side of this mess -- times where I have been closer to physically being the ideal woman. And people complimented me. I hated it. I possibly even hated it more than the insecurity mentioned above. The compliments always happened at the wrong times. Complimenting a high school girl with an eating disorder is not a good thing. Complimenting a woman who is fasting in an attempt to draw closer to God doesn't help her achieve her goal. It promotes pride. It promotes striving for the wrong thing: physical results. 

Friends, I don't want us to achieve physical results from our lifestyle changes. I want us to achieve greater health. I want us to know God better and to love him and others more than we did before the change occurred. Doesn't that sound better?

I want us to find fulfillment in things better than weight loss, achieved goals, better personal records, sexier wardrobes, and verbal affirmation. I want us to find fulfillment in Jesus. 

I want us to love and cherish our bodies today just as they are. I want us to rejoice in the fact that God declares that we are the new temple, that he cherishes these imperfect vessels today just as they are! I want us to encourage one another to love the LORD more -- not to only continue investing in our appearances. I want us to be honest about our insecurities but do so without dwelling on them. I want us to speak positively of ourselves and others. I want us to realize that beauty is more than our bodies being ____. I want us to find our beauty, our security, and our identity in Jesus. 

One more story, a few more comments, and this post will be done. Please continue to bear with me.

Once upon a time, I was about to embark on a first date with a man. We had been friends long enough for him to see me wearing all of my pairs of sweatpants and all of my beloved sweatshirts. Before said first date, I asked what the dress code was. (I'm weird like that.) He said casual. Casual to me that day meant a free t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. 

Before the date, I met up with a friend. She said I could leave early to get ready for the date. I said I was ready. My sweet friend looked at me in shock, and I laughed. She said, "Well, at least you straightened your hair." 

I thought about it, and I realized that I didn't care what I wore on the date. The man was my friend. He had seen me dressed up, and he had seen me in my college sweats. And I can confidently say that the dates didn't end because of my t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. The dates ended because we were both following Jesus where he was leading us. 

That's what I want my life to be about: following Jesus where he is leading me, learning to love Jesus more. That includes learning to live a balanced and healthy lifestyle. That includes taking care of my physical body. That includes cherishing my physical body in all of its current imperfections. That includes challenging my friends and you to do the same.

Will you join me? Will you end the negative talk about your body? Will you dialogue about what is good and what is not good about your views on body image with your close friends? Will you follow Jesus in loving and caring for your body? Will you spur your friends on to love God more instead of being more ____? 

We can change the world and help others be secure in Jesus. We just have to finally go there.