Tag Archives: Body Image

There comes a time when you have to stand up & shout

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“Real beauty doesn’t need to starve itself. Real strength doesn’t need to be violent. Real intelligence doesn’t need to be bragged about. Real women don’t need someone to tell them they are wonderful, or beautiful or lovable. Real women already know it!”

“There comes a time when you have to stand up and shout: This is me damn it! I look the way I look, think the way I think, feel the way I feel, love the way I love! I am a whole complex package. Take me… or leave me. Accept me – or walk away! Do not try to make me feel like less of a person, just because I don’t fit your idea of who I should be and don’t try to change me to fit your mold. If I need to change, I alone will make that decision. When you are strong enough to love yourself 100%, good and bad – you will be amazed at the opportunities that life presents you.”

~Stacey Charter

“This may sting a little”

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I am putting myself through laser treatments to take care of some things that have been bothering me for a while. I’m not sure what I was thinking “laser treatment” is, but for some reason I was not associating it with being burned.

Well…that’s exactly what it is…being burned.

The pain was excruciating and I told the doctor if I could have reached him, I would have punched him in the throat. He just smirked and said, “It will all be worth it when we reach the final treatment and you see the finished product. Have a good day, Mrs. Cannis. See you next time.”

I thought, “Next time?! There won’t BE a NEXT TIME!”

I cried like a baby. The burning continued for several hours. I felt like my nerves were on fire. Tylenol didn’t help (which is what they recommend for “mild” discomfort.) I have had enough medical procedures to know that when a doctor says, “You will have mild discomfort.” What he really means is, “This is going to bring you to your knees, make you whimper like a child and wonder why you ever agreed to this treatment.” The “mild discomfort” burned like hell fire.

24 hours later, I was to remove the bandages for the first time. They had warned that there may be a blister. Thankfully my hubs was a medic so I had him look at it. (Sexy, right? Not even a little.) They had given me a small needle to puncture any blistering, clean it, coat it with antibiotic ointment and re-cover.

At first glance, Chris said he counted about 15 small blisters.
“WHAT?! Why did I do this?!” The tears began to well up in my eyes and the lump was forming in my throat.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Um…I guess so? I don’t know? WAIT!”

“Did that hurt?”

“No.”

“Good. Only 14 more to go.”

Why am I telling you this in such graphic detail? I’m getting to that. Just stay with me.

The following day, when I removed the bandages, there were only two blisters. Hopefully tomorrow there won’t be any.

I am going through some painful things to reach the desired outcome. I have been asking myself for 2 years, “Is it worth the pain I will have to go through to get where I want to be?”

I finally decided that it was.

There will be several more treatments. I will be fortunate if it is less than 5. As the doctor told me, “Each time, it’s gets easier.”

When I had wiped the mascara from my face and regained composure, I realized that I really didn’t hate the doctor and I started thinking about what I could learn from the pain.

Upkeep on our body is costly and with age comes more expense. Some of the maintenance is chosen while some is required. Whether it’s maintaining beautiful brows, hair color, muscle tone, etc., it takes work.

Why do I think that beautifying and maintaining my spiritual life will be painless and require little to no effort?

If this temporary physical shell that I’m inhabiting takes so much work, how could I ever believe that the eternal spiritual would thrive without any attention?

I call myself a follower of Christ. I try to live like he did. I fail miserably at times, but I start over and try again. I pray throughout the day, little 1-2 sentence prayers to stay in constant communication. But when was the last time I actually set aside time to meditate and have uninterrupted time with my God?

If I am plucking my eyebrows more often than spending a few intentional moments with my Savior, I am missing it.

Just as the cool antibiotic ointment soothes my laser induced burns, time spent nurturing my spiritual being is like salve to my weary soul and heavy heart.

Are you finding the time and resources for physical maintenance while allowing your spirit to starve? Or, are you the exact opposite? I would love to hear your routines and practices for not only maintaining, but thriving from the inside out.

Does this make me look fat?

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Ladies, why do we even ask this question? We know when we look fat. We are setting the recipient of our insecurity, up for a no win situation.

Here’s the deal, I’m tired of feeling things jiggle when I walk.
I have been bartering with myself for the last year when it comes to dropping some lbs.

It sounds something like this. I will pay closer attention to what I eat and don’t eat…
If I have to go up another pants size
If I have a roll under my bra
If I ever have a “gut”
If I’m uncomfortable naked
If one of my children ever says, “Am I having a baby brother or baby sister?

The list goes on, but that’s the gist.

Well, today was the day. I stopped making excuses. I decided to make a change. I dusted off the shake mix that I bought last year for this very reason and I made a shake as a meal replacement.

Doesn’t sound like a big deal, does it?

Well for someone who has never had a “working relationship” with food, it’s a very…big deal.

I have never thought of food in a positive way. In fact I rarely think of food at all. Which sounds funny coming from someone who is as big as she’s ever been.

For 12 years I had a condition called bulimarexia. Weird huh? I always liked being unique. I couldn’t just have your ole run-of-the-mill bulimia or anorexia, I had to have a combination of the two. I think it’s the bipolar of eating disorders.

Sometimes I would restrict for days eating a mere 165 calories and then I would switch it up by binging anywhere from 2,500-5,000 calories in one sitting and then stick my finger down my throat until there was nothing left but stomach acid. When I was feeling extra bold I would throw down a few boxes of laxatives (30-75 pills.) I still remember the way the pink candy coating tasted, especially when I would take too many and forcefully vomit.

BUT, I was skinny.

My family would say things like, “You’re killing yourself. You know that, right?”
“Well, at least I’ll die skinny.” I would say.
Talk about shallow, insecure and egotistical all wrapped into one dysfunctional package!

Without turning this post into a share at a support group and in an effort to shine light on this that I like to keep hidden, I wanted to be forthcoming about the monster within who rears its ugly head any time I consider focusing on the daily ins and outs of eating.

If I’m being completely honest, I’m scared.
Scared that I’ll fail. Scared that I’ll return to old habits that show results more quickly than doing it the right way. Scared that I have screwed up my metabolism so much that there’s no going back. Scared that I will become obsessed with the calories, portions and fat grams again.

So here, in the quiet of morning, when it’s only God and me. I ask Him to whisper His promises when I need them most. I ask for His protection from the monster within. I ask for His guidance as I walk this road to a healthier me. I ask for His grace when I am frustrated and want to quit.

This is a lifestyle that I am learning. Not a diet, or the newest craze. It’s a way to live in harmony with something that I need to sustain me.

In case you’re wondering, I gave up the eating disorders when I put down the booze. That was October 19, 2002.

Why did it take me so long to embark on this challenge to have a positive relationship with food? It’s like any other toxic relationship. I never wanted to return to the place of making an effort to control my weight.

The difference is, I don’t need alcohol to live, but I need food to survive. So, here I am…at the beginning…looking ahead, not behind. It’s going to be hard for me. The discipline to be healthy and not cut corners, will be difficult.

I’m ready. Today, I begin a new life.

If you or someone you love is struggling with an eating disorder, please, please, get help. It is serious and it wants to take your life. You can start by visiting the National Eating Disorders Association.

Flannel vs. Lace

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Grab your favorite beverage and get comfortable because we are going to talk about sex.

Yep, I said it. S-E-X.

I cannot keep quiet about this any longer! Married people, you are missing it. You’re missing out on one of the main ingredients that makes a marriage solid.

If your upbringing was anything like mine, “the talk” involved a book with cartoon illustrations, words I couldn’t say without laughing and a very nervous parent who had never been more eager to get through a conversation.

Very little was said about it in our home and that made it all the more intriguing to me.

Yet somehow, when it came to this subject, I learned the formula;
Sex = Dirty, Unclean, Shame. It’s going to be incredibly uncomfortable and you should, “Save it for the one you love.” Huh?

I have talked to multiple women over the last few months. All of them have been married less than nine years. Eight out of ten of them are not having sex with their husband. And by not having sex, I mean one time or less per month.

There are lot’s of excuses, some are really good, valid reasons. When you have young children, especially a baby, the last thing that most women are thinking about is the thing that got them pregnant in the first place.

SO, have you gotten off track? Don’t know where to start?

Ladies…

  • Find a time in the day that works for you. It doesn’t have to be evening and it doesn’t have to be in your bed.
  • If you have a baby and it has been 6 months or more since giving birth, you should no longer be wearing maternity panties.
  • Have at least three pieces of lingerie that you actually put on for your man from time to time. Victoria figured out the secret and she has stores all over the place. I don’t care what your budget, your hubs will find the money. Go. Buy. Wear. Men are visual. Give your man something to think about the next day in his budget meeting. (Men are not looking at that one place on your thigh that is all you see when you look in the mirror. So, DON’T POINT IT OUT TO HIM!) One of the most unattractive things a woman can do is discuss her physical flaws with the man who thinks she’s a hottie. Work what you have! Everything looks better in lace.
  • Send him suggestive text messages every now and then. You may have spit-up on your shoulder and be in major need of a shower. That’s why you’re not going to FaceTime. You’re going to TEXT.
  • Praise him in front of others.
  • Be specific when you compliment his efforts and achievements. He wants to make you proud.

Guys…
You are not off the hook here.

  • Woo her.
  • Adore her.
  • Just because you said you loved her on your wedding day, doesn’t mean you never have to say it again.
  • Be affectionate with her without expecting to get it on. You might be surprised.
  • Leave a note on the steering wheel that you’re thinking about her.
  • Tell her she’s beautiful.
  • Look at her. Listen to her. Affirm her.
  • Be intentional about setting a date night. It doesn’t have to be flowers and candles, just some time set aside for building and growing your relationship.

When we marry, God gives us a license to explore, enjoy and play.

For some of us, we didn’t wait for the license. We didn’t do anything in the order that it was intended.

Right or wrong, here is my take on that…

I think the reason God doesn’t want us sleeping around and getting knocked up and/or contracting something that we can’t wash off, is because He knows how much it will hurt us. It’s a hurt not easily healed. He knows that we will carry the weight of shame and guilt with us, sometimes for a lifetime. He is protecting our heart.

The way He designed this whole crazy, beautiful, mysterious act is, well… kind of perfect. He knew what He was doing.

Please hear me when I say that, I wasn’t wearing white on my wedding day. I have felt damaged and broken for years and then something that can only be explained as a “spiritual awakening” happened.

This man, who I believe God chose and designed for me and me for him. He didn’t look at me with shame or disgust. He didn’t talk to me like a worthless whore. In fact, he treated me like his queen and now all that I know and have ever known… is him. When I close my eyes, he is the only one I see. He is the only one I want to see.

Ladies, some of you are shaking your head as tears run down your cheeks and saying, “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

You’re right. However, I know what I’ve done. I know what I’ve thought in my mind about doing, which Jesus said is one in the same. And I am here to testify that nothing, NO ONE, is beyond redemption.

Right now you’re saying in your mind, “BUT…”

There are no buts in forgiveness, Darling. Strike that from your vocabulary where needed.

Some of you reading this have given your body away in hopes of filling up the emptiness that you feel. Others make a living by taking your clothes off and spinning on a pole. Some of you are helping them make a living by going and watching them spin on a pole. Though I do not condone this (just as I do not condone past behaviors of my own), I have known some “professional dancers” who have a bigger heart and purer motives than many Christians. I am confident that there is no condemnation in Christ. Nothing will fill a void like His grace, mercy and love. Nothing.

Some of you had someone force themselves on you. Whether you were a child when it happened or an adult, it’s not your fault. Regardless, you feel stained. I am here to tell you that the blood of Christ is better than any bleach out there and He will make you new. Brand new. He is in the business of restoration. He makes beautiful things out of our pain. If we let Him…

I was talking with a friend not long ago who was an exotic dancer and professional escort for several years. She now has a hard time even thinking about being intimate with anyone, let alone her husband. Her exact comment was, “I’ve done everything and it was dirty and wrong. I have no desire to do those things with my husband. It just reminds me of who I was and what I used to be.”

“Let it go.” Sound too simple? Well that’s because it is simple. Not to be confused with easy.

This man, who is being punished for something in the past that he was not even a part of, loves you and wants you, just the way you are.

I encouraged her and will encourage you, that every time she closes her eyes and sees things that seem to be tattooed in her memory, to picture it going through a shredder. Find something to replace it. It doesn’t have to be sexual. You may have to repeat the shredding over and over and over again. Eventually your mind will be transformed.

When those visions and memories creep in and give you that sick feeling, know that it is not from God. It is not from the One who created you with great purpose. The One who designed you from scratch. The Master’s hands formed you from the beginning and they are on you still.

None of us are beyond the reach of our Savior.

Now, I know I am opening myself up to some major criticism, judgement and misinterpretation… I’m okay with that. I’m not an expert. I do think that we should feel the freedom to talk with our spouse about sex, intimacy and our body without acting like it’s a four letter word.

Can we do that? Can we stop projecting shame onto others? Can we who are married, make an effort to remind our spouse why they would never want to look anywhere else for sexual intimacy? Can we see ourselves, our bodies and our marriage through the eyes of the One who created it all in the first place?

Can those of you who are not with someone right now, look ahead with great anticipation, eager to experience sexual intimacy and all that comes with it, the way God intended it to be?

Try it… I dare ya!

Snakes, snails and puppy dog’s tails

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Four years ago, today, our youngest son was born.

The pregnancy started with tears and confusion, wondering how I could possibly be in that small percentage of women who actually get pregnant while on birth control. After all, less than a year before, God had blessed us with a beautiful son.

I wanted this baby. I just wasn’t sure about God’s timing. What would it mean for the baby that I was on birth control for the first 2-3 months after conception?

“Lord, how am I going to do this?” was my first thought.

The very next thought, “I feel like I just got my body back! I don’t want to get fat again!”

It never fails, I turn into the rebellious teen, throwing a tantrum. Because after all, it’s all about me. Isn’t it?

Here’s the deal. I am selfish.

When left to my own devices, I am self absorbed, egotistical, self-centered, opportunistic, self-serving, inconsiderate….and the list doesn’t stop there! It could go on and on and on.

However, all of that can change, IF, before my feet hit the floor in the morning, I will say these seven words “God, I invite you into my day.”

You may be thinking, “One doesn’t invite God into their day. He is already there.” Well friend, not for me. I mean, yes, of course He’s there. But if I am not intentional about requesting His input in even the smallest of daily details, I won’t notice His presence and I’ll screw it all up.

His ways are not my ways. The process He uses to bring things to fruition is far beyond anything that I am capable of doing.

Just when I thought I had been broken and repaired more times than necessary, the One creating the masterpiece, gently led me into another season of silence. 

This pregnancy would bring with it more challenges than I, as an individual and Chris and I, as a couple have ever had to face. I had several health issues surface that led to surgery, preterm labor, bed rest and the high risk wing of the hospital. We became part of the unemployed and uninsured when the economy tanked. Our daughter and oldest son became seriously ill (at different times) and were hospitalized during the span of about 6 months. 

“Where was God?“

He was there.

In the midst of all the uncertainties, He was there, He had a plan and He was not surprised by any of the outcomes.

At times, in His silence, His presence is unmistakable. 
 
Our adored baby boy arrived almost 4 weeks early, weighing in at a whopping 7 lbs 15 oz. He was the biggest preemie in the NICU

I now have this beautiful scar on my belly. A constant reminder that God’s plan is perfect. If it had been left up to me, nothing would have happened the way it did and I would have forfeited the blessings.

It would take thousands of words to adequately explain what I have learned, the ways I have grown, the changes in perspective and priorities, the multitude of blessings and the beauty of the everyday, that have come with my youngest son’s birth.

I cannot imagine my life without this remarkable child.

It’s easy to say now that;
I wish I had enjoyed each moment and not worried so much. 
I wish I had trusted the maker of the universe.
I wish I had listened more to the Father’s assurance and inquired less about “why?”
I wish I had been a much better example of “faith in action” to others.
However, I am so, so grateful for others who were the hands of feet of Christ for our family.

My baby boy is 4 years old today. It goes by fast. Much like blinking, really. Old people used to say things like that when I was quite a bit younger. I thought they were silly. Now I see the wisdom in their words, while realizing that they weren’t so old after all.

Happy Birthday to my Precious One, whom I love and am so incredibly proud of. He is the perfect example of an undeserved gift. The kind that only God, in His amazing grace and mercy, can give. I am so grateful. And though completely undeserving, we are beyond blessed.

Cinda-who? A different kind of Princess.

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Ask any child who Cinderella is and they will most assuredly know.

When asking my 3 yr. old son if he knew who Cinderella was, he said, “Ewwwww. I don’t like Cinderella.” I would say that’s right on track with where he needs to be. Like her or not, he knows who she is.

The other day on my drive home, the song “Cinderella” by Steven Curtis Chapman came on. I have heard this song many times with goosebumps covering my arms, while envisioning a little girl standing on her daddy’s feet as he dances her around.

This time was different. The tears began streaming down my face. I literally said out loud, “What is wrong with me?! This is ridiculous! Dry it up!”

I have been thinking about it ever since. Singing the lyrics over and over in my mind. “I will dance with Cinderella, while she is here in my arms, ‘Cause I know something the prince never knew…” Each time, I feel the lump well up in my throat.

When I finally took the time to sit down and start writing, clarity was found.

How many of us aspired to be a princess? Not just any princess. THE Princess. Cinderella. Nothing sounded better than being rescued from a life of chores and mean sisters. Throw in a personal fairy godmother, a makeover, a prince, a happily ever after and most of all, being able to say, “Shove it!” to the wicked stepmother and we have ourselves a fairytale.

And then something went wrong.

It wasn’t that we had brown hair instead of blond or that we didn’t have a stepmother or stepsisters to fit the story. It was that some of us took a different path. We thought that after enjoying adventure and having more “fun” we could come back and cross the finish line of life, as a Cinderella.

I haven’t read the story of Cinderella in quite some time, but from all the times I have read it in the past, I don’t recall the part where she cusses out the bartender when he yells “last call.” Or cuts marks on her body as a painful reminder that she’s real. Or where she sticks her fingers down her throat until she pukes everything that she had just binged so that she can eat more and keep stuffing those feelings down while maintaining the illusion of control. I don’t remember where she gives herself away to those who’s name she can’t even remember? Or where she stands before the full length mirror, a skin cloaked skeleton, scrutinizing every inch of her body.

Those pages must have been missing from the book.

For many of us, they are the most prevalent. Those descriptions mark a part in our story where everything changed. Shame became a constant companion. The reflection in the mirror was unrecognizable.

The realization came that there would be no horse-drawn carriage to take us to the ball. There was no army frantically searching the land to find the foot that fit the glass slipper (our foot), while the prince pines away back at the castle awaiting the return of his true love.

“Who’s ever heard of glass shoes anyway?!”

None of us dreamed of being addicts or alcoholics, prostitutes or strippers, a teenage mother or a 20-something divorcee.

We all had similar dreams. So what happened?

Well, when I was 12…
When he…
When she…
We all have our _____________ to fill.
Our story to tell.

It doesn’t matter the details of destruction. All that matters is from today… from this moment… how the story ends.

May I paint a mental picture for you, Beautiful One?
We aren’t waiting for the prince.
There is no clock to strike midnight and strip us of our dreams.

The King Himself prepares a place for us. The Creator of the heavens, waits for us. He beckons us. He eagerly awaits eternity with us. I don’t know how your story reads up to now, but I know how it can end.

You are a Precious Treasure, Favored, Adored by the Creator of heaven and earth.
Don’t give up, Darling.
Keep going.
It is in those times of weariness that we must listen for His whisper and embrace the anticipation of one day being His bride.

There is no better “ever after.”

*Photos taken from google

What If…this could change your life?

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I hear this phrase, sometimes several times a day, usually followed by something catastrophic. I can’t help but wonder how these two little words got such a bad rap?

“What if” we shifted our thinking and instead of harping on the negative aspect of “What if?” We dwell in the positive? Instead of this phrase being said in the context of what we might lose, why not use it in the context of what we could gain?

What If…
I stopped focusing on changing the world and instead opened my eyes to the needs right in front of me?

What If…
I stopped complaining long enough to recognize all of the blessings around me. Especially the ones that don’t come neatly wrapped with a beautiful bow?

What If…
I started praying for the person who evokes anger at the mere mention of their name?

What If…
I started looking at the parts of my body I have always unjustly scrutinized and began appreciating their function everyday.

What If…
Instead of marinating in negative self talk (that no one hears but me), I meditated on 4 words, “I Am God’s Masterpiece.”

What If…
I started taking responsibility for how I deliver my words and letting go of how it is received?

What If…
I looked in the mirror every day, completely naked and said (out loud) “I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation!” Psalm 139

What If…
I stopped asking “why” (things are the way they are) and instead asked “how” (am I going to make a positive impact with what I’ve been given?)

What If…
I stopped calling my gossip circle a “prayer group”?

What If…
I asked God what He thinks of me and embraced it, instead of craving the approval of strangers?

What If…
Instead of cluttering our house with more “stuff” we sponsored a family less fortunate than we?

What If…
I didn’t worry?

What If…
I trusted God as much as I say I do?

What If…
I stopped criticizing the people and things that I don’t understand?

What If…
I was fully present in the moment?

What If…
I believed that all scripture was pertinent to my life and stopped focusing only on the verses that made me feel good and promised a happy ending?

What If…
I thought the best before believing the worst?

What If…
I embraced God’s plan for my life instead of blazing my own trail?

What If…
I looked forward to heaven instead of investing so much time and energy into the temporary pleasures of this world?

Are you feelin’ me on this? ‘Cause I could go on and on.

It’s all about transforming the mind. Before we take one step, it starts between our ears. Yes?

Are you a “What If-er”? What’s your biggest “What if” that’s holding you back?

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