A New Day

Blog Post
For now, I want my main posting day to be Wednesdays. My thought behind this is that I feel like Wednesday’s could use some more lovin’ and because it seems like everyone needs a pick-me-up on Wednesdays.  But, the idea of being confined to just posting once a week sounds far too restrictive. So, be prepared for weekly Wednesday posts but also, some weeks you might get a little extra lucky and hear from me twice in one week.

I am sure most of you, if not all, have seen the wave of responses to Oprah Winfrey’s 2018 Golden Globe speech or the #TimesUp hashtags. (Warning: this post is about that, too!) She became the first African American woman to win the Cecil B. DeMille Lifetime Award. During her acceptance speech she mentioned racial injustice, freedom of speech, sexual harassment, and the women that have fought for their lives & rights. I have listened to Oprah’s speech multiple times and each time I am moved to tears. Her eloquent, yet simple, word choices mixed with the depth within her voice expresses the intensity of her messages. (Does anyone else want Oprah to read them bedtime stories?! or is that just me….)

I do not know what it is like to be an African American, or to experience such an impactful moment for my race, but I can recognize this as one of those moments. I am moved by the honor it is to witness one of these moments.

More than this being a speech that has racial impact, this speech (and the attire color of the Golden Globes) has major gender equality impact. Everyone in attendance decided to wear black to support the #TimesUp hashtag. The black attire was to draw attention to the gender inequality and sexism that this world is, and has, experienced.

I recognize that I haven’t given either of these topics (race, or gender equality) the time they deserved. I don’t mention these deep topics to make light of them,  but to shine light on what was talked about. But also, I want to point out the fact that I am a privileged white woman. I know that because of that fact I can never know the experiences of someone that is not like me.

But, I can recognize when I see a moment that changes the course of history.

This speech created a wave that will, hopefully, change the current way of doing things. I cannot listen to this speech without feeling the impact of the women, people, and leaders that have walked before me. I cannot listen to this speech without feeling a change within my own heart. I cannot listen to this speech without an overwhelming sense of pride in being a woman.

Oprah said that “a new day is on the horizon” and I am deciding to walk within that new day. I am believing for racial equality. I am believing for gender equality. I am believing for a better tomorrow. So, I urge you to rise up and walk within the light of this new day.

This post isn’t my commentary on the topics she mentioned, but it is my response to this wave and new day. I could not let this moment pass without responding. I refuse to look back at this moment and have not responded.

Have you watched her speech? How are you going to respond to this moment? Let me know in the comments!

XO

M

History

Blog Post
I have spent my life bound within the prison of this body. Trapped tightly by each layer of my skin. My internal reality cloaked in darkness, despair, and disdain. I felt fire in my toes, highlighting the truths I clung to: you’re unwanted, you can’t do it, you’re ugly, you’re too fat. Everyday I experienced the burns from my lies. The pain I felt was all I had known and all I expected to ever know.

I was born & raised in Cincinnati, Ohio. I was a blessed little girl. I had parents that really believed in my dreams. They allowed me to chase after them, regardless of how odd they seemed. At 8 years old I was convinced I wanted to be a missionary. I dreamt of living in dung huts and being covered in babies that needed love. I chased after that dream for quite a while; it took me all over the world. I went to Mexico multiple times, South Africa, Tanzania, and Brazil. Missions, serving people, and loving on those that seemed to need it most was the only thing that I really knew I was good at. It was the only thing that made me feel slightly important.

Of course, I had moments that told me something beyond my common reality. I sometimes had fleeting thoughts of being a nice person, of being a kind woman. But, those thoughts never stayed very present. I was more satisfied by the pain inside. Instead, I could rely on my consistency to buckle under the pressure of my inner demons. Those demons hung around, day by day, moment by moment. I was never alone.

As a little girl I held onto my baby weight. I was always a little rounder in the face and stomach than a lot of the petite people in my life. At a very young age I became aware of my body and understood the societal truth that my weight mattersI have control over my weight. There are stories and memories of me lost under the pressure to be skinny. I don’t know when or how I decided that I was too fat and that I didn’t matter but I believed these things to the core of my being.

I was branded by the weight I owned. My own body had betrayed me. It believed the lies, too. Marks of stretching across my stomach, chest, and thighs. I couldn’t escape these chains.

Church was my sanctuary. Hearing of a loving God, one that believed in me and sacrificed for me, it showed me that there had to be something within me worthy. I couldn’t deny the powerful things I had seen from Him.

Battle scarred and doubtful, I discovered hope.

Those two things shaped me into the woman I am today: love & self-hate. I knew love existed and I knew that it was a ferocious force that deserved to be pursued. I knew that love existed because of my moms relentless acceptance of me. I knew love existed because of the sacrifice I had seen from sweet Jesus. I, also, knew that my personal life was laced with self-inflicted internal pain. This pain did not come from parents that did not love me, or a violator taking advantage of me, it was something I simply picked up along the way. At some point in high school I decided to forego the traditional paths after high school and instead, my life’s mission would be to pursue all of the love this world had to offer until I experienced it within my inner prison. With adventure in my heart (and a mission to replace this self-hate) I moved across the country to Northern California. I attended a school that centered around the truth of a loving God and I began to face my beloved demons.

I seemed to have found a key. A skeleton key that might possibly unlock me from my misery. With cold, deprived hands I fumbled at the locks that had become my chosen royal garments.

For the next three years I spent my time captivated by the possibility of love. I explored the ins and outs, the ups and downs. I experienced heart break and I experienced self-love for the first time.

With the bravery of the stars, I began to look at my body without those judgmental eyes. I saw the thankful things that existed too. I began to cultivate the garden of happy, of thankful, and beauty. What if all I had known had been a perfectly crafted lie? What if I didn’t deserve darkness, but was actually made for the light?

Now, I work at the school that saved me & showed me the truth about myself and the truth that I, too, deserve love. Regardless of what I have done, what I will do, or how much I weigh… I deserve to be loved. My mission is to deliver those keys to the world, to others like me. I am determined to show the world that our bodies and selves deserve love. I haven’t completely overcome it all, sometimes I still find myself stuck in my cage, but I now know that I deserve to live in freedomlove.

Have you ever struggled with self-hate? What is your greatest self battle? Comment below & lets get the conversation started about the struggles of being a human.

XO,

M