years of lies, destroyed by one moment of truth!

Insecurity is apart of every girls life in some way.  When did it start for you?

For me, insecurity started when I was 6.  My parents have a VHS, home video as documented proof.  My dad was dishing out pizza when my little self told him I couldn’t eat it because I was FAT…and had to rock a leotard for my dance competition!

What the heck???

Try to convince me we do not live in a messed up world when a SIX year old is calorie counting!

Needless to say, the battle of my insecurity did not stop at the age of 6, but got progressively worse…

I created the definition of an awkward Jr. Higher. 

Morning swim practice left me at school with wet hair,

and a slicked back ponytail.

I had long, gangly legs that reeked of high waters…

sending a flash flood warning through the halls of an Arizona state school. 

If it wasn’t bad enough that I still wore a training bra…

"I got caught stuffing" as toilet paper fell out of my shirt in gym class.

I was void of any knowledge that under no circumstances was bright blue eye shadow and electric pink blush flattering to my skin tone. 

To top everything off, my face started to take on the reflection of a pepperoni pizza.

Dowsed with insecurity and void of any self-confidence, it was no wonder I started on a path of self-destruction.

I thought I was ok, because my self-destruction could not be labeled as anorexia or bulimia, cutting, or any other form of physical self-harm.  But what I later realized... I had mentally damaged myself.

I was consumed with nutrition labels, scales, hour-long workouts, and negative self-talk.  I would sit in front of the mirror and rip myself apart. 

I would yank and tug at the extra “love” on my hips, thighs, and butt…it disturbed me, even disgusted me.

I felt inadequate compared to the size 0 girls on TV and on the cover of Teen Magazines I subscribed to.

I envied their flawless skin, and long flowy hair. 

I would practice for hours to get my hair and make-up to resemble theirs, but when it wouldn’t cooperate, 

Id pull my hair out and throw my brush at the mirror.

Fortunately, I grew out of my awkward phase. 

My practice of “brush throwing” paid off as I conquered my curling iron 

and I discovered the world of bleach and highlights. 

I threw out my costume make-up and purchased stock in Clinique cosmetics.

I went on acne medicine, shut the floodgates 

after discovering “long” jeans sold at The Gap,  

and over time, 

I became eco friendly as my “swollen bee stings” 

turned into an actual bra size sold at Victoria’s Secret.

To the world, I was considered “the pretty girl”…and never heard the words ugly or fat directed towards me.

So why did I still tear myself apart?

One dangerous word.  Comparison.

My favorite hobby became comparing myself to every girl I saw in passing,  in magazines, and in the movies.  My thoughts became consumed, as I would re-construct the perfect me…by thinking…

If only I had that girls hair

…and that girls perfect thighs

….and that other girls flat stomach

…if only my skin could radiate like hers

….my eyes would be perfect if only I had that girls eye lashes…

The list went on, until I had mentally taken apart every other girls features and added it to how I envisioned my perfect self could look…

If only I had………

I allowed myself to dwell on this “perfect self” 

I had mentally created….

so much so,

that when my reflection was not met with my perfect mental image,

I became devastated with what I saw in the mirror.

I truly believed I was worthless, ugly, fat, and undesirable.  

I allowed the lies of pop-culture to win.

I am forever thankful, that my loving Savior did not allow me to stay in such an ugly place for long.  That He delivered His truths to rebuke the lies I had become immersed in.

Psalm 139:14 rang through my brain over and over, reminding me that I am made exactly to my Creators design.  The Creator of the universe looks at me, and smiles at the beauty He created.  He is the definition and the designer of beauty.  What human can argue with their Maker?

“You turn things upside down,

as if the potter were thought to be like the clay!

Shall what is formed say to him who formed it

‘He did not make me’?

Can the pot say to the potter,

‘He knows nothing?’

(Isaiah 29:16)

I was at my lowest of lows…with streams of tears flowing from my eyes…

When I looked in the mirror…

I envisioned myself as Eve might have….

Being transported back to the Garden of Eden before sin was present.

Before TV’s, magazines, movies, billboards, and Internet images graffiti’d our world

Before mankind construed a corrupted worldly standard.

And back to a time when God was the only Being present…

Before any other woman was created…

hindering the ability to compare myself to anyone but me.

… the only Being my image was meant to please, was my Maker’s.

…God’s opinion was the only one I longed for.

And when His voice was the only One I could hear,

believing to the very core, the words He spoke…

“you are fearfully and wonderfully made, my works are wonderful”

Peace encompassed me at that moment, as I surrendered to the Lords standard of beauty, and fled the lies I had built my thinking upon. 

I was determined to live with this new perspective, and set my mind on God’s truths. 

I unsubscribed to my many magazines, stopped watching TV, and refused to compare myself to anyone but me. 

As I turned from my old ways of thinking, and surrendered to obedience of faith to my Marvelous Maker…

He slowly healed me from years of mental self-destruction. 

I have nowhere near arrived, but the leaps and bounds I have made in the past few years, are testimony to God’s grace in my life.