On Self- Image & Authenticity

This newly adopted mentality that I have…this appreciation for my own uniqueness and every tiny attribute that sets me apart, is emerging from a mind once bound by the chains of self-comparison. “I will be beautiful when I dress like her, laugh like her. I will be good enough when I can speak like her,” I‘d tell myself obscuring the reality of how wonderfully I’ve already been made. Yes, just totally and completely setting aside the fact that I’ve been set apart and intentionally made different.

What does it even mean to be beautiful? Stop and ask yourself what your own personal definition of beauty is. Now that you’re thinking of it, you’ve probably been influenced by any number of sources. If you’re anything like me, you’ve combined a bunch of different traits of other women you admire and compiled them into one tailored version of yourself. That’s probably beautiful but it’s not totally freeing. There is something overly methodical about it.

Embrace the you that’s evolved from making mistakes and learning. Embrace the you that has a crooked smile and a pair of knock knees, maybe ear lobes that you think are too noticeable. Somebody loves all those parts of you and wishes they had your kinky curly hair.

I used to hate my smile, so I practiced in the mirror until I found the one I like. I never did this because anybody told me to. I never tried to imitate anyone else’s smile in particular. I simply created one that suited my liking, and that was what makes me myself. I’m an individual.

For so much of my life I hated that I was naturally a chubby girl, no matter how little I ate or how many sports I participated in. I was thick. Nowadays I look in the mirror and love my curves. They fill out things like flannels and t-shirt dresses in such a flattering way. They even give ordinary things like jeans and t-shirt a little bit of character—something interesting to look at ya know.

I guess what I’m saying is that I love myself. What is it about you, that you strive to change but it just won’t change no matter what you do? Perhaps it’s that specific thing that needs to become part of your story. It needs to become part of the list of things that make you so uniquely you!

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know them full well. —Psalm 139:14


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Whole 30 Kickoff!

On the 8th of July I moved to Colorado from Texas to live with my Aunt and little cousin for mental health and financial purposes. It has been extremely sweet and absolutely a dream to be so close to family again!

Today this household started Whole 30 in effort to both lose weight and see if the removal of sugar from my diet does anything to stabilize my mental health. Oh and I hate to mention it, but we are also taking caffeine out of my diet and I’m already feeling so sad about that, but let’s focus here primarily on the positive things.

I’m loving that green things are becoming such a part of our diet!! Here is the smoothie that we kicked our day off with this morning:

Contents:

Frozen mangos

Apples

Pineapple juice

Orange juice

Advocados

Spinach

It gave me the same boost of energy I look for in my morning cups of coffee. My relationship with coffee is actually on the brink of termination now that I have learned that as a depressed person, coffee can exacerbate my symptoms. Not just that, but this smoothie really gave me a boost that I have never felt with coffee.

Another plus: it’s so green and makes me feel so calm and connected to nature.

A soothing little boost

Ok and finally I have to share what we had for lunch. It was a particularly creative dish that my aunt threw together with scrambled eggs, pan fried potatoes (fried in coconut oil), spinach and salsa. Boy it was better than I can describe and look, more spinach and plenty of protein.

Final Product

It tasted so much better than the justice the picture does it. Boy oh boy!

So I’m thrilled. I know that we are all thrilled at the start of something new, but I have long waited for answers concerning my mental health. I have waited for the support of others in the area of such strong life changes, and have been asking God to pour fresh vision into my heart and mind with regard to my overall health and well-being. I really believe a foundation for stronger will power, and nutritious eating is being laid.

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Simply a Child of God


Disclaimer: I am not and have never been against the regular attendance of a healthy bible-teaching church. I have simply been overwhelmed by the inexhaustible complexities of being committed to tradition and hard-core discipline, as opposed to the carefreeness of enjoying Christ and the spontaneity of the Holy Spirit.

Here We Go:

It’s been long since I last mustered up the courage to openly confess the wounds lingering in my heart with regard to organized religion, and things of the like. I cannot explain this deep disconnect I feel toward the concept of pledging some sort of allegiance to a particular denomination or even church—not that I would ever preach that doing so is wrong, it’s just that my heart is so repulsed by it. It has caused so much pain.


I know that I am not alone in terms of the amount of people who share this sentiment with me, but the fact of leaving it all out in the open really begs the question of why/how I am so burdened about the spreading of the gospel and living a life of ministry unto Christ and His people. To which the only respond I have is that, that I did not call me to do anything. Jesus called me and I surrendered. He poured all the love and mercy into my heart. He allowed me to suffer, suffer, and suffer more, to the point where I began to posses an insatiable thirst for healing, and sharing how Christ has comforted me.

Just as Corrie Ten Boom says in her book The Hiding Place: “There is not pit so deep that Christ’s love is not deeper still,” and I know that it surpasses all that I do not understand about the denominational constructs, and other theological principles. I do however know him personally, and I have been set free from myself by the mercies of his love.

Freeze:

I know what you’re thinking. This already sounds sort of sack-religious, and perhaps even disingenuous. Perhaps—you’re thinking, “she’s in some sort of spiritual haze and has lost her identity in Christ.” What I need you to understand is that what I am experiencing is quite the opposite. I feel so keenly in touch with my identity in Christ, as a daughter redeemed by the precious blood of Jesus, that everything else feels confusing, and lacking in simplicity. This is not to downplay the importance of fellowship, for it says plainly in Hebrews not to forsake the assembly of believers. I simply cannot wholly bow to a particular doctrine. I can’t do it.

What I Have Found:

The gentle whispers of acceptance, freedom and truth, that the Holy Spirit speaks to me do not frequently align with the latent messages communicated in organized religion that you have to really understand everything, and follow a rigid set of guidelines for living or else be condemned, both in this life and in the next. It’s not always explicitly stated, but I never feel more accepted, whole, or regenerated than in the presence of the Holy Spirit. Perhaps it was meant to be that way.

It is possibly my very own thorn of flesh that I do not understand why people pledge themselves to a particular doctrine and feel thus edified in doing so. I do not understand how Christians lump themselves into categories saying “these are my people, and these are not my people.” All I know is the sweet person of Jesus, the power of the gospel and the infallible word of God. I stand on it. It protects me. It is my guard, and shield from any schemes of the evil one…but anything outside of that, I do not know.

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The Suicidal Mind

I’ve hesitated to touch on this taboo and extremely delicate topic from the time I launched this blog. With all the riots and history taking place on what is practically our front lawns, it has occurred to me that I too want to become more vocal about my burden for humanity

We are broken, and certain matters have been slipped under the rug that should remain there no longer.

However the conflict arises: How do I address something so multifaceted and delicate? Something that each person who experiences it experiences differently? Something that is the cause of so much grief horror and confusion! How do I even address suicide?

At 23 years old and an full of experience with suicidal ideation and attempts, I believe that my current expertise lies in revealing what goes on in the mind of someone suicidal, and how to reply to cries for help. It is all the help I can offer to this point.

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