As We Stood There | Love Yourself Linkup

With only a backpack full of what she needed for the day, one pair of shoes, one jacket, and a routine of signing up for a bed each morning with hopes her name will be picked for that night's shelter, she said to me, "I don't fear anything. I only sometimes worry. I know my Lord will take care of me."

Those profound words from a homeless woman, and not just a woman without a home but a woman with courage to wake up every day and live her life with the mindset that she has no fear, that she will be taken care of, and that she won't be stuck in a place of homelessness forever--well those words stopped me in my tracks. Because here I am, with more shoes than I have room for, a jacket for any and every occasion, and a routine of crawling into my very own bed each night, roof over my head, and the choice to even fall asleep on my cozy couch if I'd like--and yet I find myself worrying, or feeling anxious about things, and forgetting that my Lord will take care of me. 

And as we stood there talking, about what life is like for her being a woman with no home, a woman with no job, and how she has been needing shelter for about two weeks now (but that it hasn't always been this way); this woman who to the passer-by might seem like she doesn't have it together, like she needs to figure it out and get back on the grid or else she is not worth the time--well let me say something about this woman: She seems to get life more than I do, most days. She gets that we pass through valleys just as much as we stand a top mountains. She knows that possessions are just things of this world. She believes that she is intelligent, and worth it. She doesn't fear (or let them triumph) and only sometimes worries.

As she looked at me, asking about my life, I could hardly respond. As I've been having ups and downs with anxiety and panic, which could easily be related to fear about the unknown or fear of lacking control, her words could not have spoken greater volumes to my heart. I wanted to just say thank you. Thank you for being brave when sleeping like sardines in a room with 50 other woman. Thank you for teaching me what it looks like to love yourself even without a home, without a shower to feel clean, without a space to call your own--with unknowns in your life. Thank you for not letting fear grab ahold, or triumph. Thank you for loving yourself even with one pair of shoes, one jacket, and a routine where getting a bed each night is determined by the drawing of your name. I wanted to just say thank you, because as I drove off into my Monday morning, after a night at the shelter, her words stuck, and linger still--words that remind me to love myself, worry less, and know that my Lord will take care of me.

Have you been reminded unexpectedly to love yourself this week?

Photo via Pinterest

Spinning and Free | Love Yourself LinkUp

I just ate three cookies--in a row. I have no time to write. I'm behind on my work. Going to the gym is nonexistent and out of the question. I've slacked on my quiet time. My closet is begging to be cleaned. The food in my fridge is expired. And I seriously have swiffered my house every day yet dog hair is still everywhere.  Loving myself in this state, well, let's just say it isn't easy! And normally, loving myself even a little in a place like this would be impossible. But I honestly think that writing about loving myself, working through loving myself, and focusing on being vulnerable and honest has truly changed my heart. Because, you guys, I'm not having anxiety today. I'm not freaking out. I haven't had a panic attack, even now, when I feel like my world is spinning. So, although I don't have time to write a long one today, I just wanted to say thank you to the woman who have been writing and reading with the linkup each week. Because its truly healing. And me, today, in my spinning world, anxiety free and just a little crazy--but good crazy--well that is something to shout out loud about!

watercolor via  Elizabeth Mayville

Think about such things | Love Yourself Linkup

Sometimes, anxiety is a full on battle of the mind. I first wrote about my untold story, my battle with anxiety, here. In the process of recovering from and overcoming anxiety, if thoughts are not corralled or paid attention to, the flick of a switch can bring on the tightening of the chest and panic that turns into an attack. The mind defaults to worry, if not intentionally lead to focus on the opposite: on things that are good and true. Anxiety is a battle of the mind, and I mean literally.

Part of my personality is that I think best when I am alone. While I enjoy being with others, I recharge my energy best and feel most myself when I have significant alone time each day to focus and get "in the zone"--whether while doing concrete productive tasks like running, swimming, blogging, writing, reading, gardening--this is simply how I work. Because I am wired this way, and because I think best and process fully when just me, in my alone time it is vital that I set aside time to dwell on what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable. When I do dwell on these things in my alone time, through time with God, reflection, engaging in God's word, prayer, or just thinking about those things while I run, swim, garden, etc, I am better. Anxiety almost diminishes. When I have alone time to dwell on those things, I am well prepared to face those moments when anxiety likes to build up. I am prepared for battle. On the opposite end, when alone time is gone, and time to think about these things is stripped away, then my mind and heart are not equipped to fight.

Confidence is the sexiest thing, Etc. | Love Yourself Link Up

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We've read these words before: Confidence is the sexiest thing a woman can wear. Quotes like this one are pinned all over Pinterest, strung as pretty font across beauty blogs, and written on pink sticky notes near mirrors in teenage girls' bedrooms. But in the eyes of our culture, the line between confidence and external beauty is significantly blurred. The separation of which comes first is confused, especially in a dialogue where magazine covers and media try to convince us to believe that if we-just-wear-this or look-just-like-that or loose-ten-pounds then confidence is guaranteed. If confidence is truly the sexiest things a woman can wear, why do external adornments have such a grip on us?

Fleeting vs. Abiding | Love Yourself Linkup

If every person who ever thought they needed to change something to be prettier, felt one hundred percent loved--all of the time--would they in fact still feel the need to change? When I came across these words by Kate Wicker, from Weightless: Making Peace with Your Body, I had this moment where if you were there, you may have seen a lightbulb hovering over my head. And this strand of words, it continues to get me thinking: How can we love ourselves and others more fully, so as not to feel the need to change ourselves to be prettier, to change ourselves to the norm of our culture, to change ourselves because it makes us waiver less in our ability to fit in. If wanting to feel loved is the root of self-worth, body image, and our drive to change, then let's consider how it is we need to better feel loved and better love another. 

I am struck with the fact that I need to love others better, while facing straight on my need to love myself deeper, too. I've rolled around with how loving others goes hand in hand with loving yourself, over and over, this past month since writing about it. Truth, it doesn't get any simpler: the root of our desire to change is a desire to be loved. So do we really want to bear the mark, and the trial to reach unattainable standards, of physical beauty--wasting life's moments for something ever fleeting? Or do we want to bear the internal mark of learning to love others and ourselves more purely--relying on each other, and God, to purposefully teach us, investing life's moments on something abiding?

Renewed to Risk | Love Yourself Linkup

After writing about risks and relationships this past weekend, my heart was opened to something else entirely. Countless times, I have been stunted in my ability to take risks in relationships, both shiny new relationships and rusty worn in loved relationships, because I didn't love myself fully. And when I lack love for myself not only are risks not taken: relationships are held back, insecurities bulldoze anything in their path, and experiences are completely missed. Can you relate?

I could write about a handful of times that loving myself (a lack thereofe) has held a relationship back or made me miss out on community and growth. But I'm not. I am going to write about just one relationship. Here comes the vulnerability part. I have missed taking the most risks, lately, in the one relationship that I had to take the biggest risk to get from the very start. My relationship with Matt. The biggest risk I took was when I met Matt and opened my heart to him. After scars and hurt and shame from a pretty broken relationship before that, opening my heart was something that took time. It was a long road coming, falling for him: first meeting at a social, a year of me completely oblivious, Matt basically giving up on ever dating me, feelings blooming and changing, and the leap of faith to be honest and true about the relationship that was being cultivated. I took the biggest risk of my life when walking on the Cal Poly campus one night, I decided to tell him that I liked him. And his response, "I have liked you since I met you." Then the second biggest risk of my life was when I told him about the hurt from my past and the decisions I regret. And his response, "You are still the same person, and I still choose you."

And there have been countless leaps of faith with the man I love since our days of dating, to being engaged, to saying "I do", to figuring out life just us. But in the same light, there have been countless times where I didn't risk stepping out of my comfort zone, even with the person I am the closest with over everyone else, because I didn't love myself fully. I let my insecurities about my body, my intellect, my goals, or my heart win, in so many instances, that I missed out on a lot of the little things in our marriage. Like times I could have laughed out loud and rolled something off my back, risking loosing my stubbornness for just one moment, rather than getting angry or cold hearted. Or times I could have been honest and vulnerable about my lack of love for my body, risking the chance to be loved in return, rather than being hesitant in a moment of intimacy. Or times I could have chosen to extend myself grace to better love my husband, rather than feel embarrassed. These are the little risks I have missed out on. And in return, I have lost a lot of wonderful moments. And by no means is this the picture of our relationship. Matt is my person, and I am his, forever--and we have joy, and love, and all these life-giving things. But the truth? It hasn't all been sunshine. And an even greater truth? A lot is due in part to my stance on loving myself fully. Me loving me, flaws and all. 

How I love myself -- well -- loving myself completely translates to my ability to fully love Matt. And loving myself is more often than not the sole determining factor of whether I risk something daily in order to grow in our relationship and build up the amazing gift that we have--our marriage. 

Am I making sense? (When you go down the road of vulnerability, sometimes it doesn't write like poetry or a book on its way to publication. Sometimes it looks like words on a Scrabble board just trying to fit together.)

There have been so many moments in our marriage where I have opted out, heart and mind, from taking risks because of the way I felt about myself. Maybe it was my mood. Maybe it was my self-perception. Maybe it was a comment that I internalized to the extreme. Oh how I wish I could go back and love myself more fully in those moments so that I could love Matt more deeply. Because of my lack of love for myself in the past, my relationship was held back, insecurities tried to break us down (and at times did), and experiences were completely missed.

So today, certainly, I am still in the process of learning to love myself fully. Learning how to deal with anxiety for example. And in loving myself fully, learning to love Matt the way I am supposed to -- unconditionally -- and taking risks to grow parts of our relationship that have been stunted in the past by my insecurities and shame. And I can already say, that in this process, my heart is being renewed. Renewed.

And it is a wonderful thing.

Has loving yourself ever held you back from relational risk taking? How did you learn (or are learning) to love yourself and take risks again?

What squeezes out of your life? | Love Yourself Linkup

What do I live passionately about, would do anything for, and over anything else am consumed by? 

These are the questions camping out in my thoughts this week. The words I've been thinking about, intensely. And certainly, this is something I've reflected on a lot during my walk as a Christian -- but an important note is that these questions, Jesus lover or not, are ones that everyone should ask themselves. And not just ask once and answer plainly. But ask often enough and answer completely, because daily we can stray away and stop giving the answers that we truly want to live by--getting swept up into a life that is void of living passionately about what truly matters and void of those things we should be consumed by--all easily taken over by placeholders and things lacking depth and meaning. 

These are life giving questions. These are self defining questions. These are soul searching, breathe taking, stop you in your tracks questions when you ask them honestly and are vulnerable to answer. 

When asking myself a few days ago, my response was full of answers that look pretty on paper, a list of things that I am truly passionate about and living my life for. All wonderful things, and true. But then I realized in the days following that my rolling out of bed thoughts, my walking around the city thoughts, and my at home after work thoughts were all consumed by an agenda that I made for myself: preplanned writing topics, self focused ideas, an inability to be in the moment, exercise, with no room to stray away. Not to say I cannot ever think about my to-do list, what I want to write about, or thoughts of self-awareness -- but to have these be the things that I am consumed by and think about first thing over everything else? That type of realization is gut wrenching when you have it - -and that realization, I had (and am still).

I have this image in my mind of someone coming up to me, hugging so tightly, with me wrapped up in their arms, that the things I am consumed by squeeze out. Right onto them. What is it that squeezes out? I know in a literal sense, this would never happen. Things don't just squeeze out of us onto others. But what we live passionately about, would do anything for, and over anything else are consumed by -- this completely one hundred percent drives our actions and our thoughts. This is what directs our day and our "in the moments". This is what squeezes out. And the person who says otherwise, I still have yet to meet.

So when you ask yourself  What am I consumed by? What do I live passionately about? What would I do anything for? Are you stopped in your tracks because you are blown away by the affects of intentional living? Or are you stopped in your tracks because you're realizing that your answers are not the ones you want to hear? 

I challenge you, in the process of loving yourself, to reflect on what it is that consumes your thoughts. What is it that you are (or are not) living passionately for? What do you want your answers to be -- and if they are not how you want your life, your day to day, and your outpouring to look like -- why not change that, right now?

photo via Pinterest

Loving Inward & Loving Outward | Love Yourself Linkup

Something hitting me straight on as I go through the process of writing for the Love Yourself Linkup each week, is something so simple: Loving yourself goes hand in hand with loving others. 

It's one of those cyclical thoughts, when I try and break it down in my mind. Which comes first? Is it with loving yourself truer and more openly that you are better able to love others? Or is is the overflow from loving others, engaged in community and relationships, that builds up esteem and your ability to love yourself deeper? And when I think of my own life--the people in it, my perceptions of myself, what community and loving others look like at each point in my 27 years--I see a common thread. The times that I have loved myself the most, and extended continual grace and kindness to myself--those times I was engaged in a community where I was very much loving others and giving a portion of myself daily.

And it couldn't be truer in my life. The times that my anxiety builds, or I criticize myself, or I doubt my self-worth and focus on external beauty comparing and breaking myself down--those times, I am most likely lacking community. Those times, I am most likely lacking the daily necessity of loving others in a way where I give a portion of myself. 

A piece of my heart has been transformed this week. I've been serving a few of Denver's homeless woman, loving them, listening to them, and making them feel worth it. And in giving a portion of myself, and stretching my comforts, in just this simple way, that piece of my heart that often forgets how to love myself, remembers. It remembers how to love myself because I'm loving others. At the same time, my ability to serve and the risk that I've taken in giving up a part of my comfortable week to serve others, is a direct outcome of this process of learning to love myself better. Loving myself has enabled me to better love others, leaving judgements and fear to the wayside.

I am reminded again that loving inward goes hand in hand with loving outward. So this is my challenge this week. Love others, so you can better love yourself. If you are struggling to love yourself, spend time in community, give a portion of yourself to someone in need of service, spend time over coffee with your friend, love in an unexpected way. Love yourself, so you can better love others. If you are struggling to love others because you are at a point where you are in recovery, or you just can't fully give yourself to service and loving others like you'd hope, work on loving yourself more honestly--and don't give up. Spend time reflecting on what goodness in you can better relationships and community. If you pray, pray often. If you journal, journal honestly. Be encouraged that loving others and loving yourself are beautifully intertwined.

Photo taken in  San Luis Obispo during a time in my life when loving others and loving myself truly relied on each other.

How have you seen the inner workings of loving yourself and loving others pairing beautifully in your life?

Stuck | Love Yourself Linkup

Can I be honest with you? I am stuck when it comes to writing this week on the matters of self worth, body image, and inner beauty. I had the words to write about life simplified, but the thoughts are not completely ripe. I wanted to write more about where I am at with my anxiety, but I am still in the middle of that too. I started to write about moving past disappointment and  how realistic expectations set you up for loving yourself, and your life, more --but my page on the topic? Still blank. And I really wanted to write about how I am learning to be truer to myself, and more caring toward myself, but those words, well--not ready to be picked, still needing time to grow. 

I've been trying to write for the Love Yourself Linkup for two days. And it has been a pattern of typing a paragraph, deleting a paragraph, typing, and deleting. Then repeat that a few more times. You see, I'm stuck.

To write the way I write best, solitude is essential. I can hardly hear myself clearly when I am surrounded by the things that I let myself get distracted by. Key phrase--let myself. I write best when I leave my house, take my computer or journal, and just go sit awhile. In the busiest coffee shop, I can find more solitude than in the quiet of my home at times. Can you relate? That has been me this week: Lacking solitude, even in the quiet and still that our home provides. And getting distracted --by everything.

Perhaps to love myself better, I need to extend more grace and be okay with not having my thoughts spilled out "on paper" or pieced together "on time". I need to love myself even when I'm stuck, distracted, or lacking the words.

The place I have found the most clarity this week has been in the pool. And while not much writing happens while swimming, ripening of thoughts and an intrinsic fulfillment so essential to reflection happens for me there. So, while I don't have much to write today for the Love Yourself Linkup, I wanted to share the quote that has lingered in my mind, over and over, while swimming this week.

"The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why."--Mark Twain

Here's to extending grace. Because I need to do it more often. Here's to being distracted. Since it seems to be my jam these days. Here's to the growing and ripening of thoughts. And the part where we wait and may lack words to fruition. Here's to the process of finding out why. Why we are born, what we are meant to do, and loving ourselves to the core while doing it. Loving ourselves, because we are worth every bit of it.

photo via 

What's Eating You? | Love Yourself Linkup

As part of the Love Yourself Linkup today, my friend Serena, who I have known through adventures in being housemates and Bible studies since our college days, is sharing part of her story. 

In my struggle with body image, it wasn't until I realized what was really bothering me about myself that I was able to begin to overcome.

A man named Paul once said, "Do not be conformed to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." I had heard the verse many times before, but found myself hitting the gym and planning my next diet all the same. I was trying to conform to what society told me was right. The weight loss was never very much and it was only achieved by a diet and lifestyle I knew I wouldn't maintain. In fact, I knew it would only be a matter of time until I gained it back, plus some.

My Heart & My Career | Love Yourself Linkup

As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it...

About two month ago, I decided to work part time. I had a pulling on my heart since November, that I continued to ignore for months. Until finally, after the strings were tugged and pulled and my internal dialogue couldn't stay inside any longer-- I told someone about it. I told Matt. I told my mom. I told my boss, and her boss. I took a giant leap to say I know something isn't right, I am not fulfilled in my day to day, there is a part of my inner workings that does not feel complete. 

I took a leap to say that perhaps the career path I chose is not the one for me. That perhaps I need to start from square one and discover a new field. At age 27, after being a straight arrow zooming through school, four years of college studying Child Development and Psychology, and landing right into a job just one week after graduating--with the company I'd call my second family for five years now; I realized that maybe I zoomed a bit too quickly without stopping to listen to my heart along the way. The field that was perfect for me in my young twenties may not be that for me any longer. And for me, to realize this, took strength.

Strength because as soon as I spoke the words, questions shot right back in attempts to make me waiver, stumble, and deny my heart. To realize this, and tell someone about it? When I've always had my eggs neatly in a row? When I've worked so hard to get where I am at? When I've always been the one to do so well and never stray? When I don't have the answer for what I'll do next? When the image of "part-time" seems like the easy road out? When finances become an issue? When everyone else seems to have their career figured out? When, this, if, that?

Fast forward to now. Two months after I've moved to working part-time, so that I can explore my other passions and take the time to listen to my heart. I cannot say that doubts do not pop up or that I don't ask myself what are you doing? when others seem puzzled by my choice. In the world we live in, it becomes second nature to believe that at 27 I have to have my career figured out. That I have to know my five year plan. Well, I don't. But I do know that I am loving myself more now than I ever have. I can say that my heart feels more clearly listened to, exponentially so. I am looking at design, writing, and ministry as options to pursue. And it is exciting. Yet honestly, I feel so new to this type of thinking. To pursue my hobbies and my inner workings as a career path? To patiently seek out God's plan for me? (To even think that I overlooked both these things).

Matt often reminds me that I still have 30 years, if not more, of working days ahead. With that perspective, I want to choose what is absolutely right for me. This little bend in my otherwise straight arrow is but a freckle in my career path. As Bob Dylan said, "A man (or woman) is a success if he gets up in the morning and gets to bed at night, and in between he does what he wants to do." -- so why not  take a risk and do it?

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I am writing today as part of the Love Yourself Linkup--an ongoing series that will focus on topics such as self worth and body image. A community of woman will talk about our thoughts on these subjects, tell stories of our personal experience, share what has inspired us, challenged us, and more. Learn more over at Ann the Adventurer. You can read my thoughts from the past weeks where I've shared about anxiety, true beauty, gossip, and writing to an 80 year old me. If you have a story to tell, and want to be a part of the link up, join the conversation by writing and clicking to enter it below.

Which is Worse? | Love Yourself Linkup

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” --Ernest Hemingway

Hemingway gets it. He gets that writing, true and honest writing, can be painful. But I once heard someone say that true agony comes from keeping an untold story inside of you. So which is worse? The heartache from keeping a story within or the painful process that writing that story can entail? 

I used to be the one who would bottle things up. I stored everything within. The parts of me that felt unheard or misunderstood, I kept. The parts that wanted to fix the world but couldn't, stayed in my heart. The parts where I made mistakes, I held inside as shame. And any bit of hurt from words and turmoil in my world, I internalized deep within. I used to be the one who would keep it all in. It would pile and pile until, when at the brink and filled with one more thing, I would shatter into a million pieces and be unable to control my emotions.

As a young girl, I think I always hoped that I would grow out of being sensitive. That I would grow up and out of the way I bottled up and tucked the weight of my world neatly away. That I would learn how to hold back my tears and to honestly talk about how I was feeling. The truth: There are still parts of my girlhood, the bottling things up and holding my anxieties in, that I still deal with today.

I in no way had a hard childhood or girlhood. I experienced joy and life as full as can be. In fact, I would say I had a model childhood filled with so much love. But I still bottled things up. The hard things, overwhelming things, even at times the simple things, and the rough parts of life that are so very present, I held within. I can explain the feeling as pressure from the inside out, on the walls of my heart, on my chest, and an unsettling.

That unsettling, the pressure on my walls within, I now know as anxiety. Those millions of pieces I would shatter into? A panic attack.

This past weekend, after a beautiful day in the mountains with Matt, literally a perfect day full of so much joy in the simple things--fresh air, driving through the country, homemade fudge, perfect blue skies, and wonderful conversation--I came home and within one hour felt overwhelmed by the things I had left behind that day. The internalized things I had forgotten about while enjoying a day in the fresh air, came crashing over me, like a wave I couldn't run from, within just moments of being back in the city. Whatever I had bottled up, was starting to press from the inside out, about to shatter if one more thing was internalized. I was on the verge of having a panic attack. I had been bottling things up over the past week, month, or who knows how long--and something triggered that pressure, that unsettling, and the brink of tears (for what felt like no reason at all).

The difference between now and a younger me, is that I know myself. I know this very part of me. And instead of hiding this part of my story, and dealing with the agony of keeping it within, I am talking about it. Writing about it. And as Hemingway said, its painful. No one wants to say "hey, I have anxiety and sometimes break down into a full on panic attack!" It is painful to be so honest about a part of myself I am not very proud of, but worth it because talking and writing about it brings healing.  For my whole life, I have been the master at keeping my anxiety a secret from everyone (except my Mom and Matt, who know me better than I know myself it seems). But I think its time to face it, and say it, and write it.

Back to this past weekend--on the verge of a panic attack, Matt, who knows this part of me well, encouraged me to get outdoors. To do something I love--to go for a swim. The wonderful thing is, that Matt has helped me bring this part of my story to life. He helps diminish that anxiety and bottling up as being that voice of reason and truth. He has made it clear that when you tell a hard part of your story,  share about a part of yourself you are not so proud of, the response from those who love you is solid and steadfast. That they help you through it and help you overcome it. 

I am still figuring out how to write all of this--how to make it known on my blog that this is something within me, that I deal with on a very real scale. But I am realizing that the agony of keeping something bottled up and untold is far harder than the process of writing about it, or telling someone about it. To me, that is the worse choice. 

To love myself truer and deeper, writing about this part of me is necessary. And hopefully, it inspires you to journal, write, or talk about the untold story in your life.

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I am writing today as part of the Love Yourself Linkup--an ongoing series that will focus on topics such as self image and body image. A community of woman will talk about our thoughts on these subjects, tell stories of our personal experience, share what has inspired us, challenged us, and more. Learn more over at Ann the Adventurer. You can read my thoughts from the past weeks on true beauty, gossip, and writing to an 80 year old me. If you have a story to tell, and want to be a part of the link up, join the conversation by writing and clicking to enter it below.

Dear Future 80 Year Old Me

I am writing today as part of the Love Yourself Linkup--an ongoing series that will focus on topics such as self image and body image. Writers, bloggers, and women alike will talk about our thoughts on these subjects, tell stories of our personal experience, share what has inspired us, challenged us, and more. Learn more over at Ann the Adventurer. You can read my thoughts from the past weeks here and here. 

With wrinkle ointments, botox, plastic surgery, and a world that very much cringes at the thought of inevitable aging, it is crucial to plunge in against this group think rip current, swim upstream, and embrace the beauty of being older. We must internalize that with each wrinkle, each freckle, each grey hair, that we are even more beautiful from the inside out. As woman, we must focus on our character as the true source of beauty--choosing beauty over vanity. Below is a letter I wrote last year to a future 80 year old me. I hope it encourages you to reflect on what an older you would want to hear from herself, and what you would want an older you to instill in her heart about beauty. And perhaps, you too, will want to write to a future you.

Dear older me,

Your years have made you wiser, with a  wise soul that is discerning. 

Discernment has made your speech sweet like a honeycomb, with gracious words that are sweetness to the soul. Your words carry like a tune throughout your your family. Your young, their young, and generations after. May your words and their words be ever filled with harmonies of kindness.  

Your years have caused wear on your face, your hands, your heart. Wrinkles of joy from laughing and kisses from the sun. Rough hands from the work and love you have poured out through touch, and craft, and thoughtfulness. From a lamp that never goes out. A worn in heart secure in what you know is rock, and what you know is passing like the wind.

Your years have made you lovelier. The way you sip your tea, relish in frienships, and still wear pearls, just because. More precious than the jewels that adorn you, your beloved trusts in you, and has no lack of gain. Your years have made you independent and strong. Continue to dress yourself with strength and dignity, and laugh at the time to come.

Your years have made you fear the Lord. Love the Lord. Know the Lord.

Your years have made you just the way you are.

Embrace it, every bit. And know I am learning how to be more like you.

Love,

A younger you

Beautiful Woman Photo via Lee Jeffries | Portions of this letter referenced from Proverbs 29 & 31, ESV

Love Yourself Linkup | Gossip

I am writing today as part of the Love Yourself Linkup--an ongoing series that will focus on topics such as self image and body image. Writers, bloggers, and women alike will talk about our thoughts on these subjects, tell stories of our personal experience, share what has inspired us, challenged us, and more. Learn more over at Ann the Adventurer. You can read my thoughts from last week here. And join the conversation by clicking "click to enter" below.

As a woman, its no mystery that I've been where gossip made itself known. Both as the gossiper and the gossipee. "Here I am! Idle talk!" I wish it screamed. "Words that break, and hurt, and slander," I wish it hummed. What is it about gossip? Why does it, in the moment, seem to make women feel so connected and 'important' and 'lofty' when they talk about someone, or share something personal about 'her' that has nothing to do with them personally. And why is it that many of us have become so passive in holding others above reproach? Why don't we make a stance against this idle talk, this breaking speech, this hurtful and terrible thing called gossip.

What will I remember?

I am writing today as part of the Love Yourself Linkup--an ongoing series that will focus on topics such as self image and body image. Writers, bloggers, and women alike will talk about our thoughts on these subjects, tell stories of our personal experience, share what has inspired us, challenged us, and more. Learn more over at Ann the Adventurer. You can join the conversation by clicking "click to enter" below.

I remember always being the taller one. The one with knocked knees. The girl with oily skin and a temperamental complexion. The girl with a smaller bust and broader shoulders. I never wanted to be the girl who looked in the mirror and noticed these things. But I was, and I did notice.

When I look back at photos of myself, as a teenager and younger woman, I see beauty. The knocked knees, blemishes, and athletic body aren't what stand out-- I see a younger me, with big blue eyes, a swimmers physic, and the world in front of her. So why is it that my memory of myself during that time in my life, is far different from what I see in photographs?

Words said once, that tear a part with their sting, stick with us. Yet words sweet as honey, said over and over that build up, we often forget. I clinged to what others said about me. As an insecure younger girl, words made lasting impressions. But unfortunately, words that broke me down are what I remember most. Comments I heard about myself, often in the context of comparison and often unrealized by the person saying them, are what I began to internalize, and believe as truth in my heart. 

I can remember going to Macy's with a friend in high school. We went to one of the cosmetic counters and the sales woman wanted to try every type of lotion, powder, and rouge on my friend. "You have model skin!" she said. But what the saleswoman did not know, nor my friend, was that as I stood there, with a blemish concealed, nothing was said about my skin. Nothing was tried on my complexion. In my heart, I was not desired in that moment. And that stuck with me, mistaken as truth--that my skin was not pretty enough. (And yes, the fact that I still remember this IS crazy!)

When I look at photographs of myself from that time of growth as a young woman, when I was beginning to make sense of the world and who I am in it, I cannot help but ask myself: What comparison, lies, and words still hold me back from feeling beautiful today? Right now? When I think of being 15, 16, 17 years old, I remember feeling flat chested, face spotted, and not pretty to the standards of the world. But in reality, I was beautiful. How sad my heart feels for that younger me who was robbed of joy at times because of words and comparison.

And now, at 27, my skin is clearer but not perfect. I still have broad shoulders, but I am a darn fast swimmer. Yes I am small chested, but hey I like that about me. I am tall, but my husband is 6'3". And I will always have knock knees, but so did my grandmother, so I am reminded that she is a part of me. And yes I still have insecurities about all of this, but I know that how I felt about myself as a younger girl masks truth and spotlights lies--something that still continues to be broken down even now. So yes, it is a process.

Ten years from now, when I look at a photo of myself in my mid-twenties and I think about who I was  and what I believed to be true about myself--what will I remember? Will I remember feeling confident, creative, healthy, kind, and pretty when I look and see my big blue eyes looking back at me in a photograph? Will I remember feeling beautifully me, free of joy stealing comparisons and words that tear and break? The reality: probably not completely. Like I said, it is a process. But I make a vow to dwell on the words that build up. A vow to seek truth from Scripture and to strive to see myself as my God sees me. And to internalize truth, throwing lies to the wayside.

Photo taken in Evergreen, Colorado last summer on one of the hottest days ever.