a princess, a war, and a tower.

i have always had the idea that i was a princess in the tower
waiting to be rescued
by a knight in shining armor 
galloping on a steed 
bursting onto the scene
slaying dragons, you know, the works.

but when i started to think about it
who is to say that i have found my way to the tower?
that i have battled across the scorched desert?
and freezing mountains peeks?
that i have crossed brimstone and fire?
and have slayed my dragons?

how can i have my knight save me from a place that i haven't even found?
how can i be worthy of saving when i haven't even fought for myself? 

right now i am stuck somewhere between hot as hell deserts and vile brimstone.
and someone forget to mention in the manual that there are dragons all along the way.
breathing fire.
spitting venom.
trying to keep me from my castle.
from being told i am the fairest in all the land.
that i am worthy of being fought for.
and much to be loved.

for some reason this dragon i have been fighting is much bigger than expected. and much meaner than i could ever have imagined in my darkest nightmares. it's been beating me down. crushing me under it's large talons. scraping and bruising me. ripping me apart. limb by limb. i stopped lifting my hands to fight. because it's easier to curl up and wait for the darkness to take over.
wait for the pain to become a steady dull numb.
wait for it to be over.
to consume all that's left of me.
wait to finally.
just.
die.

but something i learned a long time ago came upon me.
like that first breath of air after being held under water too long. 
like my lungs were learning what air was for the first time.
i realized that i set out on this journey in a pair of flats and pool floaties. 
how on earth could i face battle when i have no armor? 
i have nothing protecting me except these weak hands and ever stumbling feet.

how could i have been so proud to think i can do this alone?
i am the farthest thing from a warrior.
i am weak.
i am faithless.
i am weary.
i am heavy-laden.
but surprisingly enough,
i have not been defeated.

because i am no longer walking this journey alone.
i never really was.
i have Someone who has been fighting with me all along.
through my rivers and over my mountains.
who wanted to step in front of me and help take the powerful blows crashing down on me.
but i wouldn't let Him.
i didn't need Him to help me with this.
this was mine, this monster, this journey.
it's too personal to invite Him into this arena.
He can handle everything else. 
all my other dragons.
all my other battles.
but this one, this one i could fight on my own.
or so i have been telling myself.

but i can't do it alone.
i can not do it.
i am too small for this big battle.
i have been david without his slingshot.
noah without his ark.
just throwing pebbles at this giant.
using my little floaties to help me from drowning.
but i need more than me.
more than all i have in all of my strength.
i need Him.
i need His armor. i need His sword. i need His shield. i need His breastplate. 
i need His place of rest. 
i need His help in this.
i need Him more than i need a victory. 
because i am so unable and so fragile.

i always thought the tower gig was about being rescued.
taken away from the castle.
away from the beasts.
but it's not about being rescued.
its about me fighting to earn my place upon that tower. 
and to be someone worth fighting for.

i thought that the desert and fire was for the knight to battle.
but it's not.
it's for me. 
it's my fire i have to smother.
it's my dragon i have to slay.
it's my tower i have to climb the steps up to.
i have to fight for myself.
to believe that i am worthy of the fight.
to know i am worthy of love.
worthy of happily ever after.

and when i complete the journey.
whenever that may be.
and i finally reach my tower
perched up high in the clouds.
i will be in a place of happiness.
with who i am. and who i use to be.
in a dwelling and deep love affair with the One who was wiping off my dirty knees.
and healing my broken bones all along the way.
i will be dancing and growing with the One who whispered lovely and beautiful into my deafened ears when the war got too loud.
i will be in a place where i can delight and be delighted in.
where i can rest.

i will be ready and worthy of being fought for.
because i, not alone, had won the war waged against me.
and found completion in the King who made me a princess worthy of a tower. 
i won't need someone to rescue me anymore.

because my knight wont have shining armor.
it will be rusted and cracked.
he will have his own wounds.
his own defeats.
and his own  victories.
when i was fighting against my demons,
he was in some other desert.
in some other place.
clinging on for dear life in his own avalanches and wars.
getting to a place where he knew his worth.
as a man.
as a son.
as a prince.
where he learned his steps didn't move forward unless he put each and every movement into the hands of the only One who could save him.

and when he finally reaches me.
in my precious tower.
i won't be sleeping.
i won't be surrounded by dwarfs.
i won't have ridiculously long hair.
or singing dishes and brooms.
but i will know i am loved.
and believe i am worthy.
i will stick out my hands.
and let him run his rugged fingers across my battle scars.
i can tell him i fought for my happiness, i fought to find love for myself in this broken world, i fought with the One who created and saved my soul, and i fought to give him a heart that he deserves. 

and he will show me his scars.
his broken bones.
his cracked ribs.
and tell me he fought for himself.
he fought for his Redeemer.
he fought for the right that one day he could love me the way a  princess deserves.

and we will leave that tower behind.
for a new path.
a new journey.
a new Kingdom to strive for.
with my heart full
and my heart complete.
we will set out on the journey.
the three of us.
there will be more harsh climates.
and beasts to defeat.
but i wont be alone.

because i never really was. 

dear body

i saw something online about this and though i feel silly, i feel its necessary for us. for us to move on from here. what i found said to write a letter to someone you've wronged. it can be a family member, a friend, or even an enemy. you don't have to give it to them. you can tuck it away in a dresser drawer somewhere. you can light a match and watch it burn til it's nothing but a pile of dust. or you can roll it up, put it in a glass bottle, and let it wash away into the sea. whichever way you decide to go the words you've been holding onto in your heart for so long will finally be out in the open. you will rid them from bouncing around the confines of your chest. you will finally be free of the pain that's been building.

so here is goes.

dear body,

i know we've had our ups and downs. to be honest, mostly we've had our downs. i have hated you, humiliated you, and tortured you. i've always wished you were something you are not and never once taken the time to appreciate anything you've done for me. i constantly focus on all your faults and never once thanked you for the good you've done. i am a hypocrite like that. i wish people wouldn't judge me for the way you look but all i do is constantly bash you for looking the way you do. i am your worst enemy. i should have stood up for you when someone would call you a name. i shouldn't have whispered venom into your skin every single time i looked at you in the mirror. i shouldn't have gone to extremes to try to change you. i shouldn't have gorged myself then purged myself. i should have tried to find ways to love you through all of the bad i saw. how can i expect people to see me for who i really am when all i am is a monster to myself? i have been evil, dangerous, and malicious to you. and i am so sorry for that. i wish there was something else i could offer but there is nothing i have left to give. just three words. i. am. sorry. i am sorry for so many things. but mostly i am sorry for hating you. for poking you. picking at you. pushing you. for never taking care of you. for never once being thankful that you are the reason i can wake up in the morning. that you are the reason i can get over sicknesses. that you are the reason my legs move one after another. i am sorry i have only focused on hating one part of you when there is so much more to you that i never took time to be appreciative of. i know we have a long journey ahead of us. and i can't promise i will always be good to you. but i can promise that i will try to be better. that i will try to love you. and i will try not to hurt you anymore. i want this new year to be a year of change. a heart change. a love change. a take care of us both change. and i hope i can give back to you the way you've always given to me.

i am sorry for the past.
but im hopeful for the future.

love,
kate

dear kate,

ive missed you. god, ive missed you terribly. i convinced myself that you weren't gone but once i took the time to stop and look you were no where to be found. ive been keeping myself busy to not have to miss you. i numb the hurt with constant plans and meaningless technology because i don't want to think about you anymore.

but i do. and i cant hide it anymore.

i miss you smiling throughout the day because you feel pretty when the sunlight is shining on your skin or when your favorite song comes on the radio that you aren't afraid to sing it loud. i miss you writing down your thoughts on napkins and on the back of old receipts because you are afraid the moment will pass and that thought will be gone forever. i miss how you use to long for the ocean. that sandy, salty water could always mend any wound and that the smell of trees reminds you of a time when you were invincible. i miss that you weren't afraid to live or to cry or to feel. that you were carefree. 

that you were free. 

i miss all the things that use to make you you.
because you aren't her anymore.
you're gone.

when i close my eyes and breath deep and slow i can remember a time when you were happy. when i felt like everything was going to work out. when i knew deep in my heart it was all going to be okay. i honestly don't know what happened. maybe i stopped trying. maybe i should have fought harder. maybe i got too consumed with all the bad that i forgot about all the good. the good. ahh i use to believe there was so much good in you. but i let others convince me otherwise. im so sorry i didn't believe in you enough to tell them they are wrong. i know they are wrong but why cant i say it? why cant i truly believe it? 

i wish i was stronger. for you. but im trying. im trying to remember that smile. remember how it felt to feel beautiful. trying to long for the things that use to make my heart alive. i want you back. i want me back. i don't want to be a shell of the girl i use to be. i want to be the beating heart girl i am meant to be. 

i want to be happy and look in the mirror and say, "it is good."
i want to smile just because i can't help it.
i don't want to miss the girl i use to be anymore because i finally found her again. 

i want to be better.

i want to be stronger.

i want to be me again.

i want to be carefree.

i want to be free.

uncomfortable

monday was a good day for me.
in fact, i delcared it would be good.
and for the most part: it was.

i woke up in a good mood. i got to work on time and even had time to make something for breakfast. although the day seemed to drag on for an eternity, when i got home from work i changed into my new work out clothes and took off to the park to start my new walking/jogging routine. i listened to music and walked around the park that was filled with dog walkers, joggers, and disk golfers. i traveled over little bridges and under beautiful shady trees. i ate healthy all day, drank way over my eight glasses of water, and though the florida air was making my breaths harder to take in- i felt amazing.

another thing i decided to start this week is to try to go a whole entire week without wearing a pair of spanx, or a sucker-inner (that's usually what i call it.) i feel confined and trapped and i realized that i preach about loving your natural body but i squish mine down with spandex every chance i get. so this week i decided to be sucker-inner free.

take that spandex. 

but i digress.

after eating a little dinner i made my way up to meet some people for monday night bible study. i hadn't had any caffeine all day and was dragging so i decided to get some black tea to sip on during study. i am a regular at the starbucks we have bible study at and see them all on a weekly basis. one of the girls behind the counter took my order and as i was paying she asked me a strange question.

"are you uncomfortable?"

it definitely took me a second to process what she asked. all i could think of is that it was such a weird question to ask someone. i mean, ive seen her there before but i wouldn't consider her a friend or someone i talk to other than the here and there chatting. i don't even know her name so why is she asking if im uncomfortable?

so i responded, "uncomfortable? what do you mean?"

and then she said the unthinkable.

"oh, aren't you pregnant?"

pregnant?
PREGNANT?
as in with child?

i tried to play it cool and not embarrass her and said, "oh no im not. sorry."

i could tell she realized her mistake and tried to play it off swearing it was me or maybe one of my other friends. i pretended one of my other friends was pregnant and said that we look alike so its hard to tell and laughed through it all. i didn't want to make her feel bad.

i should have said, "well now i am uncomfortable." but i didn't want to make the situation worse. i smiled, laughed, and apologized for the confusion.

it wasn't until i sat down that it truly hit me. why on earth was i the one who apologized? why was i trying to not embarrass her? why were my concerns on her feelings when she didn't even consider mine before she opened her mouth? she is the one who mortified me and said the one thing you never, ever, ever say to a woman unless you have attended her baby shower, seen the sonogram, and physically felt the baby kick. if none of those things happen you NEVER ask a woman if shes pregnant. even if she looks 10 months pregnant.

my first thought was to leave. flee. run as far away as i could. but my bible was already at the table and there was no way to make a quick escape. my second thought was, "why didn't i wear my stupid spanx?"

the next few hours all i felt was embarrassment. i kept looking down at my non-pregnant belly and wishing i could crawl in a hole somewhere. my mind starting racing at the ideas of all the things that i could use to patch up this hole that got punched right in my stomach.

but i had to tell myself no.
NO.
no i wont let you go on a binge and ruin everything good in this day because someone said something stupid. no i wont let you self sabotage and self medicate. no.
no.
no.

and you know what?
i listened to myself.
and instead of going home and stuffing my face with everything i could find i went over to a friends house. and we walked down the dock and hung our feet over the edge and i tossed all those thoughts into the sea under a full bright moon.

there will always be stupid people who come your way. there will always be a billboard, magazine, and tv show that makes you feel less than worthy. there will always be "that something" for you. but its the moments after that matter. its the do or die. its what you do when you think no one else is watching. when every lie you hear starts to taste bitter instead of like a sweet escape. when you have every option to break but you chose to hold yourself together. even just one last time.

i may bend.
i may scar.
but i will not break.

never, ever again.

a beautiful weekend.

i felt beautiful this weekend. actually, three times i felt honest to goodness beautiful. from the tips of my toes to the very deepest place in my soul. i know that's something weird to say but i guess the only way i can describe it is feeling completely content with who i am in every single way. and that's something i am not use to feeling.

friday night:

the night had definitely not gone according to plan and had turned into some kind of nightmare. but around midnight me and jordan decided to go to the beach. i had never been at night before and the stars were twinkling too sweet to go ignored. we had both dressed up earlier in the evening in dresses and skinny jeans and drew on eyeliner for our planned girls night that unfortunately never happened. we first climbed up the lifeguards tower and enjoyed the awesome view from being so high. eventually my feet started aching for cold sand to wiggle between my toes so we made our way to the waters edge. the moment our toes touched the warm water we both got the same idea at once. we stripped off our heels and skinny jeans and ran back towards the water with our mini dresses covering just enough that we weren't indecent. we splashed around, chased the waves, and danced in the water. we both sat down and let the waves wash over us. our wet and sandy dresses clung to our skin and yet we didn't care. we were happy, we were completely content with the universe, and we were beautiful. we laid in the sandy water for a long while and talked about life and love and regret. i remember walking away when it was starting to get too late and feeling like the ocean gave me something. something indescribable. i feel like i took a piece of the gorgeous emerald coast and buried deep into myself in the place only i can see. something just for me and something to keep always. it gave me a piece of freedom i never knew existed.

saturday night:

late in the evening i had been talking to a new friend i met here, steven, about the beaches and he asked me if i wanted to go with him. it was 10pm and i was in my pjs but i decided to go for it. he drove to my house and came to the front door to come get me when he had arrived. in all my years of spending time with guy friends i have never once had a guy come to my front door. i had never felt more feminine and girly opening it up and seeing someone waiting for me. he of course asked me how i was doing as soon as we started walking towards his truck and once we were driving he said it might be cold so we stopped by his house so he could get me a jacket. we went by starbucks and pumped caffeine into our veins before heading to the island. he played me his favorite songs and we sang along to the black keys as my hair whipped and tangled around in the passenger seat. we sat for a little bit while he played me some songs he had written and the waves complimented the guitar in a perfect harmony. we eventually walked through a hotel to get to the beach and as soon as my toes touched the sand a smile spread across my face. we left our shoes by the dock and took off towards the water. i slipped on his sweatshirt and the two of us walked down the beach with our feet getting tickled by the waves that stretched out to reach us then receded back to their home just to come back again. to be honest i don't know how long we were walking. we laughed as we got to know each other and walked until we knew it was almost too far. the thing i like about steven is i feel like ive known him all my life. that's how comfortable i am around him and only after knowing him a week. and the weird thing is that even though this could have been a romantic moment-it wasn't. because i know he doesn't feel that way for me and i want him in my life just as a friend. but as we walked down the beach i felt completely at peace. with myself and around this handsome guy i normally would have been insecure around. i played in the waves and got soaked from the waist down but i didn't worry about what he thought or how i looked. all i cared about was tasting the air. feeling the hard sand beneath my feet. and letting go of all the insecurities that would have normally ruined this moment for me. after we were walking in silence for a little bit he simply said, "im glad i met you" and i agreed. and not just because i made a new friend but because being around him makes me feel beautiful. and that's how ive always deserved to feel.
sunday morning:
i woke up early and got ready to go to church with my new friend patrick. i waved my hair, dusted on a purple eyeliner to make my eyes look especially blue, and slipped on one of my favorite sundresses. i wore a pair of bow flats and misted myself with a sunny perfume. i walked down the street to his house and the whole way there i gave thanks for how beautiful the day was. i met a few of his friends before church and smiled honestly when i met them. ive always been insecure about my smile but these three men made me smile genuinely and without worry. there was something good about their presence that made me want to be the best and truest version of myself. the service was great and i even sang along without trying to mute my voice so i wouldn't be heard. i laughed and smiled and joked without once thinking about the way i looked or how they were viewing me. because i honestly think they saw me for me. for who i am. and they didn't mind how she looked. i felt beautiful and sun kissed in the florida sunshine and like all the baggage and insecurities ive been toting around fell off of me like a cleansing rain.

of course throughout this weekend there were times i fixed my hair too much. moments i fiddled and bit my lip in nerves. and hours i stressed and cried over the way i looked. but there were three times this weekend that i felt the truest and most beautiful i have ever felt in my life. all three were different times and in different places. i was a different kate in every instance but still felt truly authentic. they might have been fleeting and momentary but i guess its a hope to hold on to and a goal to strive for.  the truth is the times i felt the most beautiful were the times i wasn't trying. and i would like to think that counts for a lot. because beauty isn't something manufactured. beauty is something created from deep inside ourselves and something felt in our entire being. and this weekend i felt that feeling truly from the bottom of my soul and i hope that's something i never forget.

perfect.

there are many definitions and ideas to what the word perfect means. for this post i am going to focus on this definition.

perfect: exactly fitting the need in a certain situation or for a certain purpose.

i have struggled with the idea of perfection or being perfect for as long as i can remember. every little girl wants to be a perfect, pretty princess, every high school girl wants to be perfect on prom night, every engaged woman desires to be perfectly beautiful at their wedding, and every person dreams of being seen as enough. as perfect. because we feel that by being perfect we are the epitome of wholeness and togetherness and by having those things that we are without flaw. in society we have been told that in order to be "perfect" we need to be a certain size, a certain weight,or a certain idea of attractive to be seen as perfect.

somehow the definition of perfect has been directly related to the way a person looks. a common phrase people say is that, "no one is perfect". and by societies standards that is absolutely correct. while there may be a few people who do fall into all those categories the general population of people do not. but that does not mean that we don't strive to reach this unreachable idea of perfection.

this blog is dedicated to talking about the tortures and heartaches ive put myself through to try to reach this goal and how it hasn't worked out so well for me. all of the ads advertising, "lose weight now" or plastic surgeons that are in business are around because of people trying to perfect themselves or make themselves seem flawless. a tighter face. a smaller stomach. a bigger butt. all those things and hundreds more. ive talked about my opinions of plastic surgery before here. but sadly no matter how many surgeries and crash diets a person goes on they will never meet societies view of what they should be.

but there is hope. because in the true definition of perfect, and not societies depiction and warped opinion, it states that being perfect is exactly fitting the need in a certain situation or for a certain purpose. so by definition, being perfect is fulfilling a purpose in which you were designed for. no where does it give requirements. no where does it say you have to be a size zero or have a certain size bust. it doesn't even address artificial attributes.

and for some reason that reality gave me immense peace. ibecause no, i will never look like a super model. i will never be tall enough, pretty enough, or skinny enough for that. but i can be too loud, too emotional, too compassionate, and too much sometimes. i can be overweight, frumpy, and unattractive and that's all okay. because that's the person i am meant to be. that is the person i am. and by being myself, which is a very flawed girl, i can still be perfect.

so by writing this blog i am in definition--perfect. i am writing my heart and addressing issues i feel that are too important to ignore. im exactly fitting the purpose that i was intended for.

of course i have many, many flaws and society will look at me and shake their heads in disgust. because society focuses on who we should be and not who we really are. they want to change us instead of accept us. the true peace i find is that by embracing this view of perfection i don't have to do anything. i don't have to change or warp anything. all i have to do is strive to be a better person but never a different person. i just have to be me because i know i am enough.
-------------------------------------------
i am perfect.
and you are the definition of what perfection truly is.
don't ever believe anything else.

{i heard this song on the radio the other day and it fits perfectly with this post}

made a wrong turn

once or twice

dug my way out

blood and fire

bad decisions

that's alright

welcome to my silly life

mistreated

misplaced

misunderstood

miss "no way, it's all good"

it didn't slow me down

mistaken

always second guessing

under estimated

look, i'm still around

pretty, pretty please

don't you ever, ever feel

like your less than

less than perfect

pretty, pretty please

if you ever, ever feel

like you are nothing

you are perfect to me

you're so mean

when you talk

about yourself

you are wrong

change the voices

in your head

make them like you instead

so complicated

look happy

you'll make it

filled with so much hatred

such a tired game

it's enough

i've done all i can think of

chased down all my demons

i've seen you do the same

pretty, pretty please

don't you ever, ever feel

like your less than

less than perfect

pretty, pretty please

if you ever, ever feel

like you are nothing

you are perfect to me

natural kind of beauty.

every since i was younger i remember being told that guys like all natural girls. that there is something simple yet beautiful about them. that they are elegant. timeless.

but when i look at the kind of girls that most guys go for, there definitely seems to be a huge lack in all natural and a big heap of dark makeup, perfectly fixed hair, and clothes that look like they were painted on. i thought all the people who told me that natural girls were pretty were just trying to make me feel better and would lie when they said i looked beautiful without makeup.

and i definitely don't think there is anything wrong with girls who dress up and make themselves look good. but as a young high school girl who never wore much make up and had an awful widows peek and down the middle parted hair i was constantly in conflict. because the girls who caked on makeup and wore revealing clothes got the boyfriends. and i knew that that wasn't the type of attention i wanted but i got to the point where i need SOME attention. even if it was bad. i wanted to have a guy fall for me in my all natural state like i had been promised would happen. but i realized that would never happen. so i got bangs, straightened my poofy, frizzy, wavy locks, wore dark make up, and tried to dress more feminine and revealing. and it worked. i got attention. and just as i thought it definitely was not the good kind. but i thought if a guy was attracted to me in any way it was better than not having any at all. but i wasn't myself and i didn't feel comfortable. so after a couple horrible run ins and a few years i decided i would stick with my tshirts and cardigans, lost the purple and teal eye shadow and replaced it with more natural colors, and started wearing my hair in its wavy, crazy, wild natural state.

and don't get me wrong. i still absolutely love to get dressed up, have sultry makeup, and feel like i am attending a red carpet premiere. as i have gotten older its something i look forward to and enjoy. nothing can make me feel more feminine than having curled hair, long eye lashes, and a pair of heels on. and when guys stop and look at me for a brief moment when i walk into a room wearing a little black dress and bright red lipstick i feel like a movie star. 

but for me its the time after that i feel the prettiest. actually, when i feel almost beautiful. when the sucker-inners are on the floor and the heels are replaced with buzz lightyear socks. when my make up is still on but a little smudged, my curls have loosened and fallen, and i slip into my favorite pair of sweatpants and old ratty band tshirt. because that is me. that's the girl i long to be everyday. the girl i want to show the world. the girl who isn't afraid to be seen undone or incomplete. the girl who use to get scolded every holiday for taking off her pretty christmas shoes the moment she walked in the door to run around the backyard barefoot. the girl who has hair that curls and flips and waves all over the place and the girl who washes off her make up the moment she walks in the door. the girl who hates jeans, shoes, and bras and wishes sometimes she was born in the 60's so she could be a hippy and not have to wear clothes. the girl she is when no one else is looking.

and she is the girl i love being. the relaxed girl after the party and festivities are over. and i realized recently that i am the happiest when i am her. when i allow myself to strip down to the basics and just be comfortable (which is something i completely forgot about.) and of course i feel pretty when i dress up but the whole time i am picking and pulling and stretching and fixing. but when i crawl into my bed after a long night out i can breathe easy (probably because im not wearing spanx anymore) and know i am the most natural me i can ever be.

and maybe they were right all along. maybe guys do like girls when they are in their natural state. because when i am all kate and all natural i feel beautiful. and when you feel beauty, you create beauty. and that isn't something that a little black dress or make up can fake. that something that only comes from being yourself.

so tonight i am going to dress up as pretty as i can for my friends birthday party. i am gonna squeeze myself into a pair of spanx and i am gonna worry too much about how my hair looks all night. my feet will hurt, my thighs will rub, and my make up will run. but when the nights over and all the boys have gone and i am finally alone i will slip on my old senior sweats from high school and my favorite old vw bus tshirt and i will smile to myself. because i can finally be myself. and i can feel beautiful for the first time all night.

hearts song

i was so unique
now i feel skin deep
i count on the make up to cover it all
crying myself to sleep cause i cannot keep their attention 
i thought i could be strong
but it's killing me

does someone hear my cry?
i'm dying for new life

i want to be beautiful
make you stand in awe
look inside my heart,
and be amazed
i want to hear you say
who i am is quite enough
just want to be worthy of love
and beautiful

sometimes i wish i was someone other than me
fighting to make the mirror happy
trying to find whatever is missing
won't you help me back to glory

i want to be beautiful
 make you stand in awe
look inside my heart,
and be amazed
i want to hear you say
who i am is quite enough
just want to be worthy of love
and beautiful

<3

beautiful- bethany dillion

relationsinkingships

relationships.

to begin to even start talking about relationships would require a whole entire blog dedicated to the subject alone.  but don't worry. i am not writing this post to talk about mushy gushy romance. i am writing to talk about the lack of it in my life.

for as long as i have been attracted to the opposite sex it has never gone well for me. i tend to fall for the bad boys, the rebels, the ones with serious problems, and the guys who generally don't give a crap about anything. especially, me. but the reason why i fall for these guys isn't because their hard exterior is tantalizing. its because somehow they seek me, the vulnerable, out like a prey and capture me when when i least expect it. i fall victim to their charming manipulative ways.

i have been told by dozens of people i should write a book about my ridiculous and sometimes humorous endeavors with men and who knows; maybe one day i will. there are way too many to list and even more to painful to talk about. but this post isn't to talk or bash then men who have come in and out of my life.

its to talk about me.

see, the problem with me is i think when a guy treats me badly i deserve it. i attribute it to my low self esteem and the fact that i never thought i was good enough or pretty enough for a guy who would actually appreciate me. i have had a guy break up with me because he said he "settled for me" and when i asked him what he meant he simply looked me up and down and made a disgusted face. and yes it hurt. it damn well crushed me. i cried for days in the fetal position in my bed (and sadly didn't shower...it wasn't pretty). but all the while i thought i was getting what i deserved. that somehow i deserved to be crushed for attempting to find a relationship because who are we kidding...who would ever want to date a girl like me?

i have never had an "official relationship" or anything resembling a normal one at that. i have always wanted it to be easy. boy meets girl. boy likes girl. boy goes after girl. boy falls for girl. boy makes girl his girlfriend. so, so simple. with me its never been that way. because boy has always been ashamed of this girl. i have never had a guy want to make me his official girlfriend for the world to know. no, we had to date in secrecy because his mom wouldn't "allow it" although in reality the only reason why is because he was embarrassed of me. it took me almost 10 months to figure that out. and that's not the first time. i have had guys want to be around me or call me only when they are drunk. guys who like me just because i was always there. guys who came after me and pretended to like me just to challenge my purity. and guys pretend to like me just to get closer to my friends. no guy has ever seen me and thought, "wow, i must be with her."

all i have ever wanted was to walk in public and hold hands. literally. when i see couples with linked arms, holding hands, or with their arms around each other something hurting inside of me starts screaming why? why cant i have that? don't i deserve to be shown around? don't i deserve to not be hidden due to embarrassment?

and i now know that the answer is YES.

yes i deserve to be something that is fought for and cherished. to not be ashamed of. i deserve to be kissed in public. to be taken on a date. i deserve to have a man who actually cares about me be in my life and not use me for his own personal gain. i deserve to be treated and adored like a princess. like something special.

because i am something special. and all those other men who have come in and out of my life and tore up my insides never saw that. but you know what? that's okay. because they don't deserve to see me for who i am and to get to spend time with me.

because i am special. i am unique. and yes, i am flawed. but that doesn't change the fact that i deserve a romance and love that is not perverted by selfishness and false ideas of beauty.

and i am not blind. i know how men view women. especially me. i know i am a big girl. i know i have a big nose and forehead. i know that when i laugh and talk i don't do it pretty and gracefully. i know that my hair is messy more than its put together and that i am not the kind of girl most guys would pick out of the crowd.

but i also know that i don't deserve to be treated the way i have been. i don't deserve to have guys play with my emotions constantly and use me when its convenient for them. i deserve a romance like nicholas sparks writes. like in the notebook. to have a man want to be around me so much that he would literally jump onto a moving ferris wheel to ask me out. i deserve to have a guy make me a telescope and to name a star after me because he knows what i care about. or to have a man help me with the things on my life list. i deserve a man who will love me all through his time in war and fight to get me back when the pain is too unbearable.

i deserve this.

and i deserve all those things despite all the reasons i have told myself i don't.

and i know all these things. i really do. now its time to start believing them and put them into effect in my life. its not gonna be easy. im gonna have to say no and protect myself. i am going to cry, scream, and fight but in the end its all i can do to keep my heart together. because this heavy heart cannot bear many more burdens or hurts until it finally falls apart.

imperfections post number one: legs.

it is kind of sad that it has been difficult for me to try to narrow down just one thing to talk about for this first post. but after some careful thought i finally settled on my legs.

i have always had smaller legs. well, small for my size. my body is kind of shaped like a potato with toothpicks. i have a huge center with these little twigs poking out from underneath. its kind of silly really. the problem i always faced with my legs was actually showing them. for some reason wearing a dress, skirt, or pair of shorts has become absolutely terrifying to me. the whole time i am in an anxious worry spell wondering if too much of my thighs are showing, if i have cellulite, or if by showing them off i am exposing how much bigger my tummy is. a million and one different thoughts run through my mind as i stand before my mirror trying to dress and finally i decide on a pair of jeans.

JEANS.

jeans have become my security blanket and worst enemy. i realized that they aren't the most feminine and the whole time i am worried about looking too manish. so its a losing battle. i can wear something pretty and girly and feel insecure, or wear a pair of jeans that are comforting but make me feel manly and insecure. in the end, i always feel insecure.

i guess another thing i don't like about my legs are the shapes of my knees. i once had a friend tell me my knee caps look like lions (weird, i know ha!) and ever since then i have been weird about my knees showing. i worry they are too saggy, too crooked, and too wobbly and boney. sometimes i stare at them stretched out in front of me and pull and push the skin and bones around trying to imagine what my knees would look like after surgery. of course i wont get reconstructive knee surgery but the thoughts always in my mind.

but after starting to write this post (i actually began it last week) i did something unheard of. i wore a dress. not once. not twice. but three times. in ONE week! and not only that but i wore a pair of shorts twice. five days last week i was wearing an article of clothing that showed my saggy knees and chicken legs. five days i didn't second guess myself in the mirror as i stood there stressed out beyond belief at the pale logs coming from my waist. i rejected the negative thoughts that flowed through my mind as i looked down at them while driving around.

i know it doesn't seem like much but to me it feels huge. because when i walked across campus in my dress and cowboy boots i felt good. dare i say, cute?

its one step in the right directions and hopefully the legs that will carry my to the finish line can be legs that i one day come to love and can show off unashamed.

under the knife and microscope.

i cant tell you how many times i wished i had enough money to get plastic surgery. in high school i would write all the things i wanted changed in a dry erase marker on my mirror so when i got ready in the morning the words hung over my reflection looking back at me. soon they were all i saw. mostly i wanted a tummy tuck and i would read articles about the recovery process and the risks and everything and anything about it. i became an expert on the subject and planned on getting one when i turned 18.

but a few years ago i had a real change of heart. to be honest i am not sure what changed my mind but i realized that if i was to get a tummy tuck that it would be artificial. it wouldn't be me.  i would probably be happy with the way i looked on the outside but not happy with who i am on the inside. i would have the reverse effect of what i have now. i would look in the mirror and see a flatter tummy but i would know i didn't do it myself. i wouldn't be able to live with myself. and to me, it would be the same exact thing that i had been doing for years with my eating problems. always trying the extremes to control my body. this time i would just be going under the knife. taking it to that final step.

i also know that if i got one proceedure it would be a snowball effect. i am an all or nothing kind of person and soon i would be looking in the mirror evaluating every imperfection. once again, putting my insecurities under a microscope. first it would be my tummy. then maybe my nose. then my boobs. then my face. then my knees. then my butt. the list goes on and on.

because in all reality can we ever be 100% happy with our bodies? if we can change one thing...why not change it all? right? because our society tell us that we need to be this weight if we are this height. that we need to have those boobs. those biceps. that flat stomach. those long legs. we need to be perfect and the funny thing is NO ONE is all those things. and never will be.

i came upon this picture and an article this morning and it really puts all that i am saying in perspective.

this woman is beautiful and i think she has a gorgeous body. all those lines signify the surgeries she would have to obtain to have a body like barbie. This is a quote from the article. "Here’s a breakdown of what she'd need done to be the kind of doll women aspire to: a brow lift, a jaw line shave, rhinoplasty, a cheek and neck reduction, a chin implant, scooped-out shoulders, a breast lift, liposuction on her arms, and tummy tuck. And that’s just the half of her." that is a horrifyingly disgusting reality. a scooped out shoulder? chin implant? come on people. that woman has a completely healthy, normal, beautiful body. i read comments on the article and someone put:

"There is nothing wrong with having all those surgeries. I don't like the way they made it seem like a bad thing. She is fat, has a strong jaw lines, and a manish figure and she would benefit from at least a few of those procedures. Modern society and feminists are brainwashing us to believe that perfection is just a fragment of our imagination but its not. Plastic surgery helps people become better. Especially women."

i know i shouldn't read the comments because they always make me mad but really? perfection IS obtainable by plastic surgery? especially for women?

not even yahoo username mike d.

 that is absolutely ridiculous. i think that even if she got all those surgeries to become "perfect" that she wouldnt be happy. because happiness comes from within. its what fills us up with life. with beauty. my dear friend natalie wrote a beautiful blog and had this quote on there and i felt it was perfect for this.

“People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”
- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

its kind of like the pearl. the shells come in so many different shapes and colors, some pretty and some plain, but on the inside each pearl is uniquely beautiful. radiant. but what if the pearl was on the outside? what if you didnt have to crack the shell open to find the hidden beauty? or what if you found a gorgeous shell and cracked it open just to find nothing? the true beauty of the pearl lies within. what would be the point of the pearl trying to perfect its shell when the truly important part is what is inside?

and if i am being honest, i think plastic surgery is cheating. for my tummy tuck it would be the easiest way out. i wouldnt have the satisfaction of knowing i worked my butt off to get the result. sure, its hard. i have the hardest time losing weight. but having surgery to "enhance" my body would be just changing the god-given body i have artifically and realistically only temporarily and taking hard work and dedication out of it. where is the self satisfaction and confidence in that?

i am not against surgery when it is necessary but i definitely dont think plastic surgery is the answer to self esteem problems.

trust me i know. its not something a couple thousand dollars will change. its an internal thing. self esteem cannot be magically repaired by a sugery. its a yearly, monthly, weekly, daily, per second constant battle.

i know that weight isnt the only thing people want to change on their bodies too.

say you think your nose is too big? who cares! it was put on your face for a reason. and it brings attention to your face and highlights other wonderful features like your eyes and lips.

or you think your boobs are too small, not perky enough, or arent how you would like? so what! they are beautiful because they are on your body. they compliment your curves in a beautiful way that a boob job cant. they are natural. and that is beatiful and cant be faked or replicated.

i just think that we need to start loving our imperfections for all they offer to our bodies. they are the things that make us unique and a plastic doll or magazine gloss picture can never have those things.

and yes there are things we CAN change. like our weight. our abs. our muscles. and all the things that we can get by working hard and really truly trying to perfect the way we see ourselves, not trying to actually perfect ourselves.

what are the imperfections tiny or big that bother you? can you fix them? or can you learn to love them? what would you be like without them? who would you be without them?

“Sometimes we strive so hard for perfection that we forget that imperfection is happiness” - Karen Nave 

inner beauty

in class yesterday i had a heart dropping, stomach turning, inner body temperature boiling moment. and because of it my self esteem virtually fell off the chart.

the weird thing is no one said anything to me or called me any name. i didn't get a dirty look or have someone snicker when i walked by. it was in and of itself this picture.

(the sad thing it was so easy to find this. i went to google and typed in "inner beauty quotes" and it was near the top.)

this picture, caption and all, was on the guys binder who sits next to me. he dropped his pen and i reached over to pick it up for him and when i sat it on his desk it rested just on top of this picture tucked behind the plastic next to a picture of him and a few of his guy friends. he saw my eyes quickly dart across the image and i know he must have seen the pain fill me as they traced the words and took in their meaning. and instead of covering the binder or looking away he looked me right in the eyes.

and he smiled.

it wasn't a friendly smile. it was a, "guess what, this is about you" kind of smile. it was a, "i think you are ugly and fat" kind of smile. and it pissed me off. i wanted to throw his binder across the room and tell him how many people that picture is going to haunt and hurt. i wanted to punch him in his stupid nose and break it just like that picture broke something inside of me. i wanted to cause him pain. i wanted to tell him the million and one reason why that picture, no, those words, are hurtful and destructive. i wanted to make him see. i wanted to tell him everything.

but i didn't. do you know what i did?

i smiled back.

yep. i cheesed it at that s.o.b. and simply said, "here's your pen" and turned back to face the professor. i washed the pain and humiliation off my face just as quickly as it came and spent the rest of the hour and nineteen minutes in class focusing on the teacher and world war one. obviously he has that picture on his binder for a reason. maybe he thinks its funny. maybe he does it so girls like me get their feelings hurt and he doesn't have to personally feel guilty because hes not the one saying it. regardless, he has that placed there because he wants to get a reaction and i wasn't about to let him win. at least not when hes looking.

last night i kept the situation out of my mind for the evening and really kept my focus on anything and everything other then that guy. but as midnight rolled around and i was staring at the black ceiling of my room i felt those words, that perfect woman in that picture, and his pleased-with-himself grin creep up on me. i felt all the insults ive been called, all the tears ive cried, and all the self hatred start to shower me. they started to cover me--suffocate me. my chest physically started hurting to the point i had to get on the ground and hold my body so tight like it was the only thing keeping me alive. i cried and winced at the pain. physically and much, much deeper inside of me. i kept saying the word no over and over. i told myself he's wrong and that he doesn't understand inner beauty because from the looks of it, he is severely lacking in that department. after what felt like hours i crawled into bed, pulled the covers over my head, and fell asleep. mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted.

but this morning i woke up feeling new. after a soul wrenching conversation last night i decided i am going to try to live life fully every single day. i want to live life unapologetically. on purpose. i want to do things that make me happy. experience life and feel beautiful because of it.

i took a long shower and took my time in lathering my body and really letting the few degrees too hot water fall all over me like a cleansing rain. most of the time, well all of the time, i take as quick of a shower as i can and get dressed instantly because i hate seeing my body without clothes on. but today i took my time. i put lotion on my freshly shaved skin and let the water drops from my hair trickle down my back. i made myself a chai latte completely undressed. no one was home and this was my morning. my morning to live unapologetically. to do exactly what i want to do and to be whoever i wanted to be. even if that's an overweight naked girl. i slipped on a short fleece robe and the warmth felt good on my damp skin. i slid on a pair of ugg-like boots and took the doggies outside to brave the cold weather. the crispy air pinched and nibbled at my barely covered skin and created prickles on my freshly shaved legs. but i didn't care. i lifted my hands and stretched every muscle in my body reaching up towards the heavens and you know what? my robe flew open! but i didn't care. because in that moment wearing nothing but a pair of boots and wet hair i felt more alive, more free, and more beautiful than i have in my entire life.

the thought that popped into my mind at that moment was towards the guy in my class and the only thing i could think was, "suck it! you aren't going to bring me down!"

i realized my nudity might blind the neighbors so i scooted back inside to my bedroom and i did something i haven't done in years.

i looked at myself naked.

eeek! it was scary my friends. but you know what? it wasn't as awful as i remember.

i noticed that i have a pretty collar bone. that my legs are thankfully skinny and look really cute in a pair of boots. that my boobs aren't as saggy or ugly as i remember and actually kinda pretty. i noticed curves and shapes and beauty i had never seen before on my body.

and sure i noticed my awful stomach and double chin and how ugly i look without make up but i realized that there are some things i might be okay with on my body.

and i also realized that even though i don't feel beautiful when i look in a mirror, that i do feel it sometimes when im not looking in a mirror and that's okay. because inner beauty is real. and its not only reserved for a certain type of person. i feel beautiful when i don't look in a mirror because i am feeling myself. i am feeling the beauty that is radiating from inside of me.

and if i feel beautiful with my arms in the air like a crazy person with my robe flapping open in the wind that's okay too because im just being me. and even though shes not as gorgeous as the girl in the picture above, shes a hell of a lot prettier inside then someone who would make a picture like that to make people feel bad about themselves. the road to loving yourself starts one step at a time. and this morning i took a pretty big step.