I used to be the girl who carried makeup with her everywhere she went, sneaking away to the bathroom to freshen up, obsessing if my hair was out of place or if my forehead was shiny. I would pinch the rolls of my belly in anger that they were there and pick at my face for an hour before bed every night. I was so mean to myself - starving myself, punishing myself and calling it “discipline”.
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But eventually my body said, “ENOUGH”. It started shutting down in more ways than one. I was exhausted, sad, lonely; I was sick.
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Our bodies weren’t designed to be fueled by hate.
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I started craving community, real friendships - not the surface level stuff. I found GOD and bathed in his grace. I learned to cook and discovered how good REAL FOOD tastes and that God made it all for us, to fuel us and to heal us. I got rid of every extra mirror I owned, gave away clothes I didn’t need, and decided smiling was better than makeup. I started asking myself who I was and what I cared deeply about and then set out to chase those things. I laid down idols, obsessions, deep insecurities, and lies I had been telling myself at the feet of Jesus and said, take these…I’m done. I started moving my body in a new way and became fascinated with what my body could DO more than what it looked like.
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I started feeling alive again.
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It wasn’t an overnight thing, and I still have my days. I am still learning and growing and healing, undoing all of my “discipline”, trading it in for peace and heading back to the alter when there’s something more to lay down.
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The older I get, the more comfortable I am in my skin, and the more comfortable I get, the younger I feel. I hope I feel youngest when I die.
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[the undoing]
…pieces of my story🤍