BaDonkadonk

Every.Woman’s.Battle.

Two.Simple.Words.

Self
Image

If it is true that men think about sex every 3-7 minutes (or whatever ridiculously short amount of time that statistic states), I’m pretty sure girls think about their image in that ridiculously short amount of time.

Look at self in mirror before shower…analyze…pick…turn head to side…suck in…push out…push up (no, not the exercise)…sigh...better hop in shower before late to work.

Towel wrapped around wet hair while standing in front of closet…What should I wear today? What is going to make me look skinny? What is going to get the attention of the opposite sex? What item will get compliments from co-workers, friends, mom, dad, cousin, gas station attendant, sales clerk, anyone-that-would-see-me? Grab washed, clean pants…crap…they need to stretch a bit so I don’t feel pudgy. So we do the little stretchy movement…bend down, bend over, sit down…ugh…I feel fat. I should watch what I eat more. I’m not in shape like other girls. Wish I didn’t have these hips and thighs…I need to go on a diet and firm up my belly. And so begins the downward spiral of self-image.

All of this is just the beginning…just part of a morning routine. This doesn’t include the magazines and diet books we see as we wait in line at the grocery store, the Facebook status updates of our friends sharing the progression of their diet and pounds lost, the constant talk of friends who want to lose “just 5 pounds” to feel satisfied even though they are sizes lower than you and look like a million bucks, the fact that your siblings got the “tall and skinny” gene and you wondered what happen to you, the rib-bearing models who sell the clothing you are supposed to have, or the television shows that often spike thoughts about self-image like Biggest Loser, The Bachelorette, The Real Housewives of Plastic, The Kardashians….

For the most part, men may struggle with lust more often than women, but more often than not, women battle the lust, the appetite for physical “perfection.”

So where does a girl even begin? How do we combat the daily struggle to fight destructive self-image thoughts, ideas, perceptions, and actions? How do we help those women who struggle with this more than ourselves? How do we tear down lies and build up truth? How do we impact a younger generation that faces the same dangerous messages? There are a million answers – a million suggestions, educated answers that any girl could spout off to you. The answers I have come from my own experiences, my own beliefs, and my own study and slight research of this topic. But most off all, I think that every women needs to define and re-define.

You see, the world (the fashion world) says that if you are a size 6, you are on the border of being too big. Here’s the truth…I’m anywhere between a size 8 and 10. This doesn’t exclude the fact that I used to run between a size 12-14 and it doesn’t exclude the fact that the average size of an American women is around a size 10. My question to you is how are we going to re-define this idea of what is too big? Can there be a “perfect” size. No. Because if you tell me that I can be a size 0 like my sister, you are telling me that my hip bones are as small as hers. I’m pretty sure in order for that to be true, I need to go saw off some bone or crush them closer together. That just sounds like a little too much work and pain for my liking. Pear, Apple, Whole wheat Spaghetti noodle, carrot, petite plum…whatever food fits your fancy…not everyone can expect to fall into the “ideal” size. Apples and Oranges.

So, wait…I’m telling you I was a size 14. Yes, I was. Yes…I am not any longer. So what did I do to lose the weight? Aren’t I being a little contradictory? Look – I was overweight – or “well nourished” as one doctor wrote during a routine physical in high school. Clearly I forgot about that memory. I didn’t watch what I ate. I’m addicted to anything chocolate. I liked my snacks of Cheetos and Hostess Cupcakes and double portions of dinner and there was probably emotional eating as well…and eating out of boredom. I played sports in high school which also gave me a reason to justify how I ate. My decision to lose weight came from the low self-image I had of myself and my emotional self-indulgence. Not because I was necessarily…eh…fat…but because I knew I could get worse if I didn’t make a change, in college I decided that I needled to lose weight...the old fashion way – exercise at least 3 times a week for 30-45 minutes, and stick to 1500-1700 hundred calories a day. Guess what – wow…it worked. Plans like Weight Watches, South Beach, Atkins, Restrictive-eating, pills, Slim Fast, may work for some – but do they give you the tools you need to take yourself off a diet and keep the weight off? Do they teach you how to shop for food at the grocery store? Most importantly, do they give you a well-balanced diet, that god-forbid, includes carbohydrates?! Re-define and research what healthy and diet really mean before diets that promoted “meal shakes,” “full bars,” diet pills and carb-free came to be all the rage.

Finally, definitely not last on the millions of answers, but definitely the most important. Granted…some may not believe in what I’m going to say next, but I don’t know any other more sensible and reasonable answer. Do you realize you are loved? I know, here she goes on her crazy train to crazy town. But seriously…Do you know what all humans desire? Unfailing love. Think about it. You do…you desire to be loved. I know I do…and often my appetite to be skinny…to be “perfect” is really just a greater desire to be accepted and loved and to hear someone say that there is nothing that they would change about who I am. And the truth is you are and I am loved. But I’m not talking about the love and acceptance from a spouse/bf, a friend, a society, a community, a world. I’m thankful for that kind of love, BUT (and there is a but)…There is a greater pursuer who has said that you are beautiful the way you were created. That every detail about you was carefully considered and planned out from the very beginning. That there is nothing – absolutely nothing – that can take away your value and worth and beauty. From the hangnail on your toe to the oily hair follicle on your head – you are beautifully loved through and through. Remember that. Remember that there was effort and work to make you who you are and no one compares to you…which means this game I play, you play, of comparing yourself to another person whether they are prettier or “uglier” is obsolete…useless…self-torture…selfish…hurtful…unloving. He first loved us...what would happen if we dug deeper to discover what that love really looked like?

I have a feeling maybe the statistic would no longer be only 7 minutes…

Writer's Block

Oh hi.


So you may feel I’ve neglected this bloggity. I haven’t. I visit it every week. Just recently, I’ve been having issues. I come…type…backspace…type type….backspace backspace…type type type type type….abandon draft. I’ve thought about leaving more music up here that I enjoy or like the lyrics of…but then I don’t want you to truly judge me about them – I know I’m everywhere on the dart board with them so just accept it. Yes, I like “Crush” by American Idol David Archuleta. No, I do not like his Stage Dad. No, I don’t know any of his other songs. Yes, I do love Jonsi. Yes they are weird and eclectic and some things are sung in Icelandic and I have no idea what he is signing…but I might be weird and eclectic in my own way and am okay with not knowing every meaning of the song. I’m sure you already know that, though. I’ve even thought about revamping this blog to be about baking and cooking…because I secretly dream that I could own my own bakery/lunch-in and do that for a living. But my resources are limited…I’m not too optimistic about it. It is a dream…and I will dream about it for a while, but I must admit that it can only be a fun little hobby for now….and if you happen to ask me for some dessert for a shower or something like that I would be willing. I’ve also dreamed about photography, but I’m still young and growing in my skills. I have been paid for some work, but mostly it is just for free to get some subjects to photograph. Great marketing strategy, I know. Free…I’ll do it for free, but I really would rather not. But I’m hospitable and like cooking for people, so more than not, you’ll get home made goodness from me for free. There are many things I think about and wish I could figure out how to write it all. I could talk to you about my ventures through the education world…except I’m on the side where I was told in college that there would be a dire need for teachers when I graduated. Well, I’m almost 3 year out and still no job – only budget cuts and young minds being affected with every decision whether good or bad. I could talk to you about this Bootcamp class that currently has my back and shoulder muscles screaming at me, yet the battle I had with ThinMints last night might make those muscles turn into a consistency like peanut butter. I took a little day trip to Mizzou, which was one of the best mini-day trips I’ve had in a long time. I stepped in a puddle…the only puddle I saw that day (or didn’t see – clearly). I could give you my little rating of the movies that I have recently seen and how I had to close my eyes at 127 hrs. when James Franco cuts through his nerve. Ugh…my stomach still drops just thinking about it. Not sure if my opinion is valid though considering I end up falling asleep to most movies I watch if it is after 7 and I’ve worked all day or I sit down and finally realize how tired I am. I could even write about this lovely, fantastic, life that I have. Tell you about a boy who caught me blindsided and makes me float in the air like a balloon. About the kickball league and sporty things I’ve been doing….and if you’re still reading…I’m impressed. Maybe you are truly interested in my life…or maybe you’re just a creeper. Either way, I need to write, and I need you to know that sometimes my posts will not be very interesting and other times they will…but I’m going to try to take a little leap and get a little more real with you. I’m a girl who cares what other people think and for once, I think I may be ready to be a little more open and not feel like I’m trying to step on egg shells through this blog…It is time to discover and learn and write freely…

Smelling

You know you come from a line of exceptional cooks when your grandma could make a frozen pizza taste like it was made in Italy. Maybe it was just the love she sprinkled when putting that frozen cheese pizza in the oven, but my siblings and I will tell you that it was most delicous when she made it. Forget DiGiorno pizza…we just need grandma’s cheap, frozen pizza. Besides her strange magic over our pie, my grandma was a great cook. She always made Thanksgiving meal to a T. Cross your t’s and dot your i’s, she had it down to a science. Summer picnic? You bet her potato salad was required to be there. And if we were at her apartment sitting around the dinner table, her cinnamon apples were worlds better than Cracker Barrel. The only catch is that these things like potato salad and homemade Thanksgiving stuffing don’t have recipes, and the way to tell if you are making it right in our family is by the smell. That’s right…the smell. Naturally, my mom picked up my grandma’s cooking skills and has mastered the stuffing and potato salad. Luckily for me, I’m the daughter that has picked up this passion and love for cooking and as a result has stuck my nose in stuffing to breathe in “the smell” and let it permeate my mind for eternity.


As I’ve ventured into my own world where mom is no longer expected to have a meal ready every night, I’m discovering how much I love to cook and bake for myself and others. There is great accomplishment that comes when I try a recipe and get to savor the fact that it actually made my taste buds bloom. Even better when the people around me love it just as much. All I ask is that if I make something for you, you have to be honest about how it really tastes.

Current ingredient obsessions (in no particular order):
Cajun/Cheyenne/Chili Powder
Espresso
Black Beans
Cilantro/Parsley
Dark Chocolate
Sun-dried Tomatoes

Happy Thoughts

I must have found my Lucky Marbles. This week has been a Dave Barnes/Matt Wertz type music week and maybe it is because their music gives me the wonderful feeling of summertime while my hands and feet currently feel like iciles, but maybe, just maybe, when you unexpectedly find your marbles life just seems....blissful.