The Book of Mormon

 A month ago, I was so angry with God. I was angry that he had allowed too much to come into my life.
I was angry that church didn't seem like a place of peace. In fact, church was just exhausting.

Maybe this faith struggle is news to you and maybe it isn't but tonight, I want to dive into it a little bit deeper than I usually do. I want to reminisce on how I became this person that I am today.

 My memories of church growing up have a lot of good and a lot of bad.

I can remember being a 5 or 6 year old in my primary class and learning about prayer and how we all have the ability to speak with God whenever we want. This amazed my young mind. I would often pray and have long conversations with God. I would tell Him about my day, about the boys I liked, about the friends I had, etc. He was my friend.

As I got a little older, church started to become more difficult. I was teased and left out a lot of the time. I began to resent church because I didn't want to be around so many fake people who preached about love and acceptance but weren't very kind to me.

My teenage years were especially hard. I was enrolled in seminary in high school and although I secretly enjoyed so many things about seminary, I was struggling with feeling accepted and loved. I was the rebellious teen and I knew a lot of my church peers would talk about me behind my back. Luckily, during this time, I made friends with a new girl in my ward who I related to so well.

I don't believe I ever stopped believing in God or His gospel but I didn't really understand the extent of the church. I had witnessed a lot of incidences that I cannot deny which cemented my testimony in God but I had never studied the Book of Mormon or the Bible on my own. 

In fact, I don't ever remember reading the Book of Mormon all the way through on my own. 

I was married in the temple and my testimony in the LDS faith seemed to be really strong but there was always something missing, a personal conviction that I had yet to witness. 

It's hard to explain because I don't feel like I've just been going through the motions for years. I have received answers to prayers, seen miracles, and felt the Spirit with me when I needed it most. I have seen the power of the Priesthood work in my life and have felt some pretty incredible things during General Conference and my regular Sunday meetings. 

But in the past year, I've struggled with my faith. 

I've questioned my purpose, the purpose of a God, the purpose of a church, etc. I've had times where I decided I would not be going back to church because it is just too hard to be there and hear the lessons and wrangle my children for an hour before they go to their classes. 

My main concern has been what my friends and family will think about me if I choose to leave the church. 

And I think when I realized this, I realized that this is where my faith crisis was creeping in. 

I wasn't going to church for myself. I was doing it for everybody else. 

Since recognizing that, I've been analyzing my personal reasons for not giving up on my church and I feel like the more I focus on that, the stronger I become. 

I also gave myself a challenge this past month. I felt like it was my last hurrah before deciding what I wanted and what was most important to me in this life. 

A friend had challenged me to read the Book of Mormon with her in 90 days and I told her I would love to do this. 

Within the first week, I was almost halfway done because I was listening to it during work. 

By the end of the second week, I had only a few chapters left. 

Today I finished the Book of Mormon. 

I listened to the Book of Mormon in less than 3 weeks and I loved so much of it. 

I loved listening to Nephi as he spoke of the things God was asking of him. In fact, a lot of the stories of Nephi and Lehi are now my favorites because I relate to them so much. 

I loved listening to King Benjamin's address to his people. As I listened to his compassion and love and humbleness, I sat in my work office and just kept nodding my head over and over, agreeing with the words he was saying. 

Did I retain everything that I listened to? No. But I can honestly tell you that if I were to read the Book of Mormon, I wouldn't retain much more. My lovely ADHD makes it difficult to focus on reading sometimes. 

As I finished today, I started to think about what kind of example I want to be for my kids. 

A month ago when I was struggling with some pretty messy things that had happened in my life and I told my mom I didn't want to go to church anymore, she reminded me to think of the future with my children before making my final decision. 

And she was right. 

Because I want these children to have strong testimonies. I want them to know that God loves them, that Jesus Christ died for them, and that the power of the Priesthood is real. I want them to know that we have a living prophet on the earth today who is an instrument in the hands of our Heavenly Father.

I want them to know they have a purpose on this earth, just as each of us does.

And for me, the most important thing I want them to know is that God doesn't just love people who are perfect or close to it. He will love them when they fall, when they make really dumb decisions, and when they question His existence.

In fact, I can tell you that is one of the most amazing things I have witnessed this past month. I spent a good portion of a particular Thursday yelling at God---full on yelling at the top of my lungs until my voice was hoarse. I let all of my anger out and told Him everything that was wrong. I told Him that in order for me to feel Him, He would need to send me a sign. My body could not physically feel His comfort because I was in so much pain and I was so confused and I think I might have actually demanded He send me a sign.

Yeah.

I didn't deserve a sign. I didn't deserve an answer or miracle that brought comfort.

But He sent it anyway. He sent it in the form of a text from a friend and although it was "just a text", it was anything but "just a text".
It was everything. 

He knew that my anger was fear. He knew that I needed to yell. And when I yelled, He just sent more love.

Friends, that is the type of person I want to be. I want to be the type of person that loves when people hurt her, that doesn't judge others when they act selfishly or rudely.
Everyone has a story and a reason behind their choices. God knows it because He is God but what if we knew it? What if we could look at others and see all of their pain? What if we could understand their motive behind their decisions? I can bet we wouldn't judge as much. I can bet we would find ourselves with a lot more patience.

Tonight I am a little bit wiser and my faith is a little bit stronger. It isn't going to fall into place in a day but I certainly have found a few of the puzzle pieces I was missing before.

I believe in God. I know He is real. 

And I know He loves me. 

Warri()r

 I wanted to come here and tell you how stupid life is and how much life sucks. I wanted to complain and be angry.

But throughout the week, God has taken my anger and taught me with it. He has given me peace and hope when I really didn't deserve it from Him. And I feel humbled.
I was angry at God for a life that seems to flourish in trials. I was angry that He would allow so much in just a span of three years.

I've been told that publicly declaring that I can do hard things seems like an invitation to God but I didn't agree. Doing hard things and wanting to do hard things are two different things. Just because I do them doesn't mean I want to do them.

But I started learning this week. I started listening to my heart more instead of letting my anxiety control my thoughts. Something changed in me this week. I thought my insecurities had snapped me in half but what really happened is that I got so damn sick and tired of fear ruining me that I started to trust myself. I started to find confidence. I started to love myself and recognize some of the really amazing things I've done throughout the years. I started to hear truths about myself that I've never been able to believe before.

I started focusing on the most important thing...family. I am fighting. For the first time in a long time, this feels like real fighting.

Like warrior fighting.

Because although I've lived through a lot and have done some really hard things, I think most of the time I've fought for others, most specifically for my kids.

But today, this fight isn't even about them. This fight against Satan is about me. It is a fight I am going to win because Satan knows who I am and that scares him. He hates me. He wants me to fail and be miserable.

In the LDS hymn, We Thank Thee Oh God For A Prophet, it states, "When dark clouds of trouble hang o'er us and threaten our peace to destroy, there is hope smiling brightly before us."

There is hope smiling brightly before us. 

Dark clouds come from Satan. Hope comes from God. 

This week was a turning point in my life. As much as I don't like being refined through trials, I have been given so many opportunities to learn. I have been given so many opportunities to be stronger. In a spiritual body building contest, my strength would take me to the very top.

I don't have much doubt in myself today. And although I can't promise it will always be that way, today I have confidence in my character and my ability to make my life amazing.

I started out the week so angry at God for all of the things in my life but today, I am humbled that He has brought some of the miracles I've been praying for. They just didn't come in the exact way I had requested them. Instead of erasing some of my trials, God gave me a trust in myself that I have never felt before. He gave me the ability to discern truth, to have empathy, to function as a mother, to come closer to my family members and many of my friends.

It is because of my God that I am the warrior that I am. None of this would be possible without Him and today, my anger has been softened. My heart has opened up and I have seen how much I have to offer the world.

On April 1st (ironically), I made a decision that some have been excited about while others haven't quite understood. But it is a decision I felt was right for me.

In fact, I have not felt a single ounce of regret since that night.

Now as I look down at the feet that I plant on the ground each day to fight a new war, whether big or small, I am reminded that I am a warrior. No matter what comes my way, I will continue to fight. I will do it for my kids, for my family, and for my friends.
But most importantly, I will do it for myself. 

I am worth it. As I stare at the eating disorder symbol that represents the "o" on my foot, I am reminded that no matter what I look like or how much I weigh, my God believes in me and I can believe in myself.

As I've tried to listen to General Conference through the fights and mishaps with my wonderful children, I caught a quote from Elder Bednar's talk on fear. He said, "Godly fear dispels mortal fears. It even subdues the haunting concerns that we can never be good enough. In truth, we cannot be good enough relying solely on our own capacity and performance. After all we can do, we are made whole only through the mercy and grace through the Savior’s infinite and atoning sacrifice." 

This spoke to my soul as I've struggled with feeling "good enough" for most of my life. 
I have realized that my measurements of 'enough' have never included the atoning sacrifice that my Savior paid for me. He makes up the difference when I fall short. I will always be enough in His eyes because I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father and He loves me. 

If ever there was advice to give that I hoped people would listen to, it would be that you are already enough. You are already loved by God. You don't have to prove anything to anyone because God knows who you are and He loves you as His child. 

Believe in yourself. Be kind and have courage. Get out of bed and find gratitude in the little things. There is so much power in gratitude. You and I have so much power over how we live our lives. 

Dear Women

Dear lady who judges the less active members at church,
I used to be you.
I have sat in a congregation and wondered why certain people weren't there. I have thought to myself, "If they would just pray more, read their scriptures more, etc., their testimony would be stronger and they would be here." I used to judge that they didn't have their priorities straight and that all it would take is them trying harder.

And then I became the girl who struggled going to church. I became the girl who often fought prayer at night because she didn't have the energy to recount every hard thing that had happened that day. I became the girl who was afraid to cry because she feared she wouldn't be able to stop---and prayer always brought tears.

I have learned that this isn't black and white, that my Heavenly Father understands my intentions every single night. He knows my choices and He waits patiently for when I come to Him. But He never scolds me for not showing up. He knows I am doing my best right now.

Dear mom who judges other moms for allowing their children to watch exuberant amounts of tv,
I used to be you.
Before I had children and even for a few years after having them, I made sure they didn't watch too much television. I thought moms like that were just lazy and didn't want to spend the time with their children. I vowed never to be that mom.

And then I became the mom who allowed her children to sit in front of the tv for hours on end. Although not a daily thing, on my hardest days as a single mom, I turn the television on and lay down in my bed or get homework done. I try my hardest to make the other times count, the times when the television isn't on, and I feel like for now, that's the best I can do.

I have learned that this isn't black and white, that parenting is different for everyone. There is no one right way. I have learned that parenting is hard and that no one is perfect at it. We all make mistakes...but the important thing is that we try again the next day.

Dear woman who views divorced couples as weak and selfish,
I used to be you.
There was a time when I looked down on divorced couples because of their lack of commitment. Why choose to get married and have children if you're just going to break up your family? Why not fight harder, try harder, be better?

And then I became the woman who filed for divorce. Years ago, I would've judged my choices as selfish and the thing is, maybe there is some truth to that. Maybe filing for divorce was selfish---because I was losing myself. I knew I had done everything I could do up until that point. I knew my husband wasn't coming back. I wanted relief from the pain that had been present in a lot of my marriage.

I have learned that this isn't black and white, that on the outside we might judge why a couple is getting divorced but we will never know the full story. We have not been there every second of their lives. We don't know their emotions, their pain, and their betrayal. And even to the couples who seem to get divorced when "they could've made it work", it just doesn't matter. Who are we to judge their decisions?



Life is tricky. It's messy and confusing. We have all been the judge and the judged. We all know what it feels like to wish the whole world knew our pain so they would understand why we make the choices we do.

But we aren't perfect. We all make mistakes. The best thing we can do is own our mistakes and try harder to have compassion the next time.

We may never be able to walk in someone else's shoes but we can choose to trust that they are doing the best they can with the life they're living.

Another Storm

I've endured many storms in my life. Some are big and some are small. Some are ingrained in my memory and others are forgotten.

I can remember quite well the summer I was 10. That was probably the summer I spent the most time having sleepovers with my cousins. There were 3 girl cousins my age growing up. One who lived in California and two that lived here---including a step-cousin I had met when I was 8. We spent a ton of time together that summer. My California cousin came for a visit and I can remember one night in particular during monsoon season, a storm had come into town and our power had gone out.
My cousins and I all huddled around a battery-operated night light that was my baby brother's at the time. My dad had gone outside to check the power and I was so scared. I was scared he would never come back or that our house would catch on fire or flood.

But I had my band. I had my team. My cousins kept me brave that night. I watched the shadows dance off the walls as the thunder cracked louder and louder but I knew I would be ok because I wasn't alone.

Another storm I will never forget was during my days at ANASAZI. Because I was there from June to July, I ended up enduring monsoons in the middle of nowhere---with a 8x8 tarp for protection. The first time I experienced a monsoon on the trail, I started to cry. I begged and pleaded for them to let me go home. I told them I was afraid of storms when I was in my own bed and that I couldn't possibly endure it out in the desert.
We hiked through most of it but when the sun started to go down, we built personal shelters out of our tarps and were sent to bed. This was the very first time I remember feeling completely alone during a monsoon. I sobbed under my tarp and pulled my journal out, aware that the lack of light would prove difficult. But I didn't care. I knew I needed to write. I knew writing would help.
I scribbled out most of my fears almost illegibly but the rain was still pouring and I didn't feel much better.

So I started to pray. I prayed out loud. I pleaded with God to stop the storm because I was scared. I was afraid of dying or getting hurt. I was afraid of the loneliness.

I ended my prayer and laid there for a minute, wishing that God was actually real so that He could answer my prayer.

And just like that, the rain stopped.
I could hardly believe it. I had never received an answer to prayer so bluntly before.
I pulled my journal back out and began to scribble the events of the night. I wrote, "Tonight while it was raining, I said a prayer and asked God to stop the rain because I couldn't take it anymore. And you'll never believe it! THE RAIN STOPPED! There is a God. I know He is there. I know He heard me. I felt Him tonight."

It was during ANASAZI that my testimony of prayer began to grow. I was so afraid of death and I felt like we faced so many dangerous obstacles but each time, we were lead to safety.

The storms I have faced have taught me so much about who I am and who I want to be. Some of them have knocked me off of my feet for a period of time but I've gotten up eventually.

I can see that happening with my current storm. I've been knocked down and I'm not up yet. I'm still figuring this all out and trying to repair the damage. But today something clicked. Today, on another Sunday that we were late for church because I dread sacrament meeting alone with my littles, I was listening in Relief Society about patterns becoming habits and how quickly we can become comfortable and set in our ways and I realized, I don't want to be this. I don't want to struggle to go to church. I don't want my children to get used to this example and think that it's normal that we miss the sacrament 50% of the time, sometimes more.

I may not be where I want to be. I may be struggling with this picture of my life and how it's turned out. I may still question why this has all happened in the particular timing that it has.
I will still struggle to feel like I fit in on Sundays. Some of the lessons will still cause a lot of pain in my heart. I will still feel alone and stressed out most of the time in sacrament meeting.
But it won't be this way forever. 
Because eventually, I'll figure this all out. Eventually I'll be standing taller than I've ever stood. I will face this storm and beat it.

Because I know I am capable of greatness. I know I am strong enough to endure the hard days and enjoy the good days.

Although I don't understand it all, someday I will. Someday I will be able to look back and think, "Wow. I made it through another storm."

Messy Transitions

Four days in.

This year has been a whirlwind already.

I spent the night before New Years in the hospital with some ovarian cyst problems. The next day, I worked a full day and spent the night at Brian Reagan with my family. On January 1st, I started cleaning and purging things we don't use and organizing the things we have.
These past four days I have organized room after room after room in my house.

Two of our bunnies have passed away. One on Dec. 29th and one on Jan. 1st. Princess Seal is still going strong and spends her nights in the kitchen so she doesn't freeze.

The kids were gone for 5 whole days. I spent most of that time working and cleaning but I was able to squeeze some friend time in there too.

I spent eight hours of my Saturday at traffic school due to a red light ticket. Am I the only one who didn't know that if you get a red light ticket and you pay the ticket, you STILL have to pay for and attend traffic school? So $400 later, here we are. Here. We. Freaking. Are.

I just got my kids back last night and today, our ward made an announcement that the boundaries would be reassigned.

I get it. I'm dramatic. I recognize that. I was immediately worried because I don't live on the same side of the neighborhood as my best friend and geologically, it seemed like we might be split right down the middle.

We weren't.

Instead, our ward was made even bigger and we now have a whole new subdivision of people to love.

That news was very welcome because I just wasn't sure how I was going to reign in my emotions if I was thrown into a new ward right now.

I get that I'm not always going to be here. I'm even ok with that. But right now, as I struggle to belong and find who I am within my Mormon roots, I am grateful for the friends at my side who are patient with me, who call me if I'm not at church and ask about me, who sit by me and have helped me through this year of messy transitions.

Because that's exactly what this is.

It isn't that I don't have a testimony. I do. It isn't that I don't like my ward. I do. It isn't even that other people make me feel secluded. They certainly don't. This is just a part of the grief and trauma I'm working through right now. I haven't decided what I want. I get confused a lot. I worry about what my future should look like and whether I'm doing everything the right way. I struggle without the Priesthood in my home. I find myself avoiding prayer. My safety net is the other 2 people I share my home with, my children. I often feel like we should just never leave our house to go into the world because it feels so uncertain.

But I don't want fear to run my life. I want to find peace. I want to understand the lessons in church. I want to be able to apply them. I want Sundays to be an exciting day for our family.

Right now, they aren't, and I'm trying to be gentle and patient with myself, instead of shaming myself.

Right now, it's ok that Sundays aren't my favorite. Sundays have been hard for over 2 years. Sundays have been a day I used to dread, as I toted my young toddlers to church by myself. At that time, I felt all alone. I remember how scary it was to be by myself and look out at the congregation and not feel like anybody understood.

It's different now. My ward is my second home. It is a place filled with people I love. Sundays aren't easy but they are easier.

I think the reason it's been such a messy transition lately has a lot to do with life calming down. I know---confusing. When life was crazy and I was hyper-focused on just making it through each day, I didn't have time to worry about church. We just went. But now that I'm getting used to being a single mom, life started to shift and in plain view were my fears about church. My fears of being single at church.

It feels like it's been a lifetime since I've had a partner to help wrangle the kids at church. I look around and see the majority of the families around me, a mom and a dad, both working together to keep their kids quiet. I can't remember what that feels like. I don't want to say that it's easy for them because I know it isn't. Kids and church are a hard combination. But it often hurts my heart to feel a loneliness that nobody at church can fill.

I'm tired of being alone.

Loneliness is an exhausting feeling.

It's hard to find my place during this messy transition that I'm in. I know I'll eventually find it. I know I'll eventually push my way to the top of this mountain and see the valley on the other side.

As I knelt down to pray last night, for the first time in a while, I had a long conversation with God about how shaky everything feels right now. It has been such a beautifully messy year and I want to understand it all.

People say there must be something better out there for me. Some days, I believe them and other days, I don't.

I have faith in my Heavenly Father's ability to help me. He has done it many times. Although these busy days have left me confused and sometimes anxious, I have given myself one goal to build my relationship with my Heavenly Father. One simple goal to pray once a day.

I don't care if it seems small or if people don't quite understand my struggle. That's ok. I don't even quite understand my struggle. But I am trying. I am pushing forward through this mess because I am worth fighting for.

I am precious to my God.

Bravery: 2014

At the beginning of 2014, I wrote this post where I chose my word for the year.

It's a funny thing, the words I choose. Every year, I pick them and every year, they end up applying to my life even more than I anticipate.

I can count numerous times this year when the word bravery was directly applied to a decision or action in my life.
There was this post where I shared my views on divorce and how it hasn't changed my belief in marriage. Getting used to openly talking about divorce wasn't an easy thing. I was fearful of the judgement. But I did it anyway because I needed my voice to be heard.
This year, I made hundreds of new friends---some I've met and some I hope to meet in person someday. I might have forced myself into some of their lives and trusted my brave heart to lead me in the path I needed to go and my goodness, it turned out so incredibly sweet in the end.
I have learned to fight this year---I went from slowly killing myself daily to putting myself in recovery from my eating disorder, I have learned to openly talk about pornography and share my views on the effects of it's entrapment, and I have slept in my bed alone for over a year with only minor middle-of-the-night freak outs.

I have dated. Oh what a fun and seriously stupid world the dating world is... I really don't have much to say about it but for me, dating has been extremely brave.

School. I have completed two semesters of full time school this year and gotten through one of the most triggering classes I've ever had to endure---and I raised my hand and spoke my mind about why I don't agree with mainstreaming pornography.

I was chosen to be a recipient of the Bright Effects day and I completed a photoshoot of just me...no kids...just my beautiful insecurities, all wrapped up into one mold of a warrior.

I started working again---and it was all sorts of messy for a while. Juggling work, school, and motherhood was not very fun for a while. Ninja would say the same thing if you asked him. It was hard. I was constantly getting anxious and running from one place to the next, trying to devote my attention to whomever needed it the most in that minute. Luckily, we have fallen into a groove and things have gotten so much better!

My bravery took us on two trips, one to California and one to Utah. I also took a trip to Las Vegas with friends, where I bravely wore my "Porn Kills Love" shirt on the LV Strip.

There have been so many moments this year where I've questioned myself. I doubt my abilities a lot. I worry about whether this blog is the right thing, whether my parenting is good enough, and whether I'm acting with authenticity. I want to be real and allow you to see the messy mixed in with the beautiful.

I struggle to find who I really am. I have changed so much this year and although so many aspects of that are beautiful, some of them aren't as great. Sometimes I surprise myself with how much anxiety can take over within seconds or how my fears cause me to believe really ugly things about myself.
Other days I surprise myself with how confident I am.
But mostly, it's just been hard trying to figure out who this new Suzanne is. I battle that one out in my mind often---way too often.

There have been so many reasons to celebrate my bravery this year. I've done a lot of things I didn't believe I'd be capable of doing.

Which brings me to 2015:
I have thought about what word I should pick to represent this next year of my life.
Most of the words I wanted to pick were synonyms with bravery: courage, strength, etc. They all seemed like decent words but I knew none of them were the word I was looking for.

I was looking at this new family picture yesterday and the word seemed to be staring me in the face...

Healing.

With all of my pain and struggle between divorce and my eating disorder, I have tried to focus on my own healing but it has never received enough attention.

This year, I am putting more focus on my own personal recovery. I'm going to figure out who I am and who I truly want to be.
I am going to fight for myself so that I am able to fight for those two beautiful children of mine.

The past 3 years, I've tried to make it a goal to go to the temple 12 times (which would equal out to once a month) and each year, I get somewhere between 6-9. Not this year. This year I surpassed my goal and although I am not going to put a specific number on my temple attendance this next year, I have seen what going to the temple does for my life and I am going to continue making it a priority.

Healing.

I have so much faith that healing my heart is possible. I have faith in my ability to figure this new life out.

To end my year of bravery, and to start another year of bravery, I recorded a song that I heard for the first time tonight---because I'm really good at winging things around here. This is my last post of 2014 and I really wanted to share something special with all of you, my warrior friends.
I want to leave you with a thousand disclaimers but I think the bravest part of posting this is just leaving this video for you to listen to and judge for yourself. No disclaimers. Just me.

Be The Good

I question my intentions a lot.

A lot. A lot.

This has so many pros and cons. On the one hand, I want to be secure in who I am and the choices I make. On the other hand, I want to make sure my intentions are accurately sincere.

Because what I really strive for is sincerity.

I am not a 1950's housewife who has the table set every night at 5:00pm and a perfectly tidy house. I am perfectly capable of being me without having a companion by my side. My sarcasm is thick, I'm often obnoxious, and I'm also one of the most compassionate people you will ever meet.

These aren't things I was taught. These aren't things that society or my parents have engrained in me from a young age.

My experiences have shaped me but they didn't create me. They molded the already existing me; the me who curses often and loves to dance and is sometimes so awkwardly open that it makes people squirm.

I was me before any of this began.

I may not always be confident but it only takes a small amount of courage for me to become a lion.

A friend and I were discussing this today---sincerity and so many things that encompasses. We started talking about Relief Society, which is a program that was created within the LDS church when Joseph Smith was the prophet. My favorite description of the Relief Society can be found in the church handbook and it states that Relief Society was established for "...the relief of the poor, the destitute, the widow and the orphan...".

The destitute.

Not the perfect. Not the "have it all together".

Relief Society is for those of us who don't have it all together.

Sometimes I just don't understand it. I don't understand why it isn't ok to sit down on Sunday and when the person next to you asks how you are doing, you say, "My husband is dealing with an  addiction right now and it has been really hard on me." and be able to talk about how life is hard and everyone has unique challenges and we are all in this together---no judgment---just unity and a whole lotta love.
Because in the above situation, the response might be, "I have been feeling worthless and I don't always believe the people in my life really love me." Or maybe the response might be, "I can't even imagine what that must feel like. Can I take you out for ice cream tomorrow so you can get some things off your chest?"
I have been LDS my entire life but through some of my most destitute times, I have seen this world in a completely different light.
And it is a light. It isn't a darkness.
I have seen beauty where most people would claim only dark clouds reside.

I used to struggle to have faith in humanity when I would catch glimpses of the news or experience hostility in various situations. I mean, hello...Ferguson? I didn't even have to be a news watcher to see the anger and hatred that can cause people to make horrific decisions. I wondered if maybe my broken-but-still-slightly-intact rose-colored glasses were just my imagination.
I wanted to see the good.

It took me a while to realize that instead of looking for the good, I have the ability to be the good.

I can restore someone else's faith in humanity instead of waiting for someone to come hand me my own dose of faith. And when I pass out smiles to the people I come in contact with, my faith in humanity is equally restored when I experience the majority of them smiling back.

All it takes is a tiny dose of bravery and a whole bunch of love.

I know we are getting there. I can feel it. I have experienced so many real moments in my own church and within my every day relationships. It is possible because we are capable.

Love wins, my friends. It takes love to battle the evil we are exposed to. Hate doesn't conquer hate. Love conquers hate.

I look forward to the day when judging each other holds no weight. I believe it will come. I believe the harder life gets, the more beauty we are able to recognize. Instead of focusing on the wrongs in the world, let's choose to be the rights. Let's choose to create a life we can be proud of individually---not a life we live because we feel pressure to be a certain way or fit a certain mold.

There are no molds. If there were, God would have created us all with the same exact physical features and identical life experiences.

I have realized that I don't have a mold. There is no one I need to be other than the person I already am. When I fall down or make a life decision that most people wouldn't agree with, I remind myself that this is who I am. People don't need to understand it. Honestly, I would never expect people to understand every decision I make.

You don't have to understand someone to love them.

We all have the capability to get acquainted with our own sincerities. Don't hide who you are out of fear.

Be you.

And I'll be me.

Just Try Harder

I remember when I first became a stay at home mom back in 2010 and my kids were 2.5 years and 9 months old. I remember thinking to myself that I had it all.
I had a husband who was in school and working. I had gorgeous, healthy children. I had friends. I loved church.
Money didn't matter. We weren't ever rich but I didn't care. We payed our bills. We fed our children.
I was happy.
I had everything I had ever wanted.

It's been 4 years and 3 months since then. Everything has changed. Most of the things I loved don't feel existent right now.

I miss out on so many things with my children. Parties at school, playdates, moments when they just want their mom, etc. I'm not always there. I can't always be there.

I hate it.

I don't hate my job. I don't hate school. But I really, truly find myself resenting divorce because of the many changes.

A lot of the times I can get through the hard moments, trusting that there are also many beautiful moments ahead. I try to stay positive. I try to forgive and not judge and love the people around me.

But I don't always succeed. Today I didn't succeed.

Today it wasn't possible to be tough and hold back the tears like I normally do. I couldn't handle the stress.
I couldn't handle the thought of one more day where my kids would have neither of their parents at a school program to cheer them on.
And then I got a call that Ninja had an accident at school and I cried thinking about everything our divorce has put him through. He isn't as emotionally transparent as his sister but the scars are still there. The accidents and the finger-sucking and the baby talk---they are all signs that he is hurting and scared.

The guilt was weighing heavily on me. And along with the guilt, I was angry at the decisions that placed us all in this position. I thought I had let that all go or that I was at least getting better about letting it go but today it all came back.

Today it felt like a punch in the stomach.

All of these things I didn't choose that have effected my life in some of the most heart-wrenching ways just seem so unfair and messy.

When my heart feels this way, it's really hard to not question God. When everything first went down a year ago, I seriously wondered if He had made a mistake in allowing yet another hard thing into my life. Although I know He doesn't make mistakes, I still doubted my capabilities.

Let me rephrase that---I still doubt my capabilities. I do. It isn't a constant doubt but it shows up from time to time.

I used to wonder why certain people didn't seem as engaged at church or didn't attend every Sunday. I used to find myself wondering and maybe even judging people who were less active. Although I was a defiant teenager, I had never truly experienced those feelings {until this past year} and my lack of understanding caused me to think they must've not been trying hard enough.

It sounds so simple. Just try harder.

I love my church. I have a strong testimony and know that Jesus Christ died for me. But I struggle to feel like I belong. I often feel alone when surrounded by some of the most incredible people in my life who are there for me at church. I hold babies and make comments and sing hymns but it isn't always easy. In fact, a lot of the times it is really hard.

I struggle to keep my children in sacrament meeting. That has always been a challenge with my son. I try to stay patient but we usually end up in the hallways or we go late so I don't have to deal with it.

I struggle to stay in Relief Society---especially when we talk about eternal marriage or families. It is really painful to know you don't have what so many people have. It's hard to feel like people don't understand why you're single. It's hard to hear those lessons and feel like a piece of you is missing because your family is broken. You are no longer the "typical Mormon family".

I struggle to substitute in Primary callings. Because after that first hour of "heaven and hell" all I want to do is drop my kids off and breathe for two hours...and then go home and take a nap.

But I should just try harder, right? That's what I would've told myself a few years ago. I should go to church and set the example for my kids and practice more patience.

There are days I don't want to go to church. There have been moments in the past year where I've decided I wasn't going to go back. My testimony has always gotten me there but it doesn't take the struggles away.

It is possible to have a testimony and not want to go to church.

It is possible to feel an aversion to prayer or scripture study and not be a horrible Mormon.

It is.

I know what I want to teach my children. I still fight most weeks to get us all to church. But it is hard. Being a good Christian no longer looks the same way that it used to in my mind. Being a good Christian means trying---sometimes failing---but getting up and trying again. It means fighting for peace when peace seems nonexistent. It means trying to love myself the way my God loves me---and that includes not beating myself up for missing church or falling asleep without praying.

Although I often have an easier time talking about things "after the fact", I want today to be real. I am staying afloat. I am not swimming like a champion and I am not drowning. I am just struggling to float and not fall any further.

I don't necessarily doubt that we will get through this divorce and stand strong like the warriors that we are but somedays, like today, are just so hard.

I know my kids will see my sacrifices someday. I know they will understand when they are older. I'm just so done with missing out on so many things and feeling so exhausted from trying to be their mom and provide for them and giving myself time to be me.

It's probably not impossible---but it seems impossible today.

Happy Birthday to Me

 "There's no one alive who is youer than you."

A month ago, I was trying to come up with ideas for my birthday post. I wanted something different and more vulnerable than the things I normally post---and might I add that I feel like I post a decent amount of vulnerability here.

When I woke up that morning, the only thing that seemed to fit was to thank God that I have been allowed 27 years of learning and growing on this earth. Whether 27 sounds old or young to you, it is such beautiful thing that 27 has brought me to this particular point in my life.

With 27 years of bravery under my belt, I realize just how many incredible things I can do.

A few months ago, I was working hard to get my ariel. I know, weird, right? I used to be able to tumble back and forth but never in my life had I successfully done an ariel. I decided 27 is going to be the year. So there you have it. Sometime this year, I'm going to be able to do an ariel. Impossible is not really a word I believe in.

Twenty-six was a huge testing year for me and I'm ok with that. Without this past year, I wouldn't be the Suzanne that I am.

Although there has been pain, I have gained confidence in my ability to be a single mother, a working mom, a student, and a good person. I am proud of who I am. I am proud of the things I have done.

I've hated myself a lot of this year. I remember days where looking in the mirror and seeing any kind of beauty seemed impossible. I remember thinking I'd never love myself or be loved again. I remember looking at my stretch marks and all of my imperfections from having kids and wondering how anyone would choose to marry someone like me.

But this year, I've learned that whoever ends up with me will be lucky because I have worth. For every negative thing that can be said about me, there are ten positive things to counteract it. I have the ability to love and be loved. I was a good wife. I will be a good wife again someday.

I am doing the very best that I can and that's what matters.

The other day, I was at the doctor's office and I had to be weighed. You guys, I was panicking! I have not weighed myself since I started eating disorder recovery because I'm working so hard to see my worth without a number attached.
Anyway, I saw my weight. Hmm. Ten pounds heavier than a few months ago.
A few months ago, that would've sent me into a spiral. But a few days ago, it didn't. Instead, I was grateful. I was grateful what that ten pounds represented. It represents strength and recovery and health and happiness. It represents becoming whole again.
I was surprised at my own reaction. I was surprised that any amount of compassion was able to be focused from me to me.

I was able to see straight through that number and find beauty. I was able to love the person that I am right now instead of panicking and wanting to change everything about her.

I'm a warrior. I've said that a lot this year. Sometimes I've believed it and sometimes I've said it because I wanted to believe it.
Today I believe it.

Instead of fearing the future, I plan on punching fear in the face and showing life what I'm made of.

So for my birthday post---a month late---I wanted to share a side of me that you may not see very often. I love music. In fact, music is definitely in the Top 5 of things that helped me through divorce. So many times I would be driving and crying and a song would come on the radio that comforted me and reminded me that I am going to make it.

In some of my darkest hours, the place where I turned for peace remained the same.

Breathing, Living, Learning, Growing

I am a huge fan of music. Music helps me cope with a lot of things in my life, especially this past year.
Lately, I've been going back to the same two songs most days.

Colbie Callait's 'Try': I have been listening to this on repeat as I sit in the carpool pick up lane at my daughter's school and start to feel anxious because that 20 minutes in the carpool lane is often my only quiet time to think about life. I turn it on when I look in the mirror and realize I was brave enough to fight my eating disorder and get myself in recovery months ago and now I'm here---and it seems like just yesterday I was there. And then I start to worry because am I good enough? Am I pretty enough? Am I smart enough? Am I a good mother? Am I worthy of someone marrying me and taking on the responsibility of my children? Will I be wonderful enough that a man would choose to do that when he could marry someone who doesn't have kids and an ex husband?

These are real thoughts and they run through my head a lot. A lot.

"You don't have to try so hard. You don't have to give it all away. You just have to get up. You don't have to change a single thing."

I feel so unworthy of dating. I feel so unworthy of love. But Colbie helps me remember how hard I'm trying and how I don't have to do that. The right guy and the right friends will love me not for how hard I try but for who I am---for who I am right this very moment.

Christina Perri's I Believe is also at the top of the list. Everytime I hear the last line of the chorus, I can feel in my heart the exact words being sung.

"I have died so many times but I am still alive."

Because I have died. I have felt loss and abandonment and insecurity times a thousand this year.

But I am still alive. I am still fighting. I am still moving on with my life.

I'm trying to be the mom my kids need and the provider they need and still be me and do things for myself.

If you're wondering how well that's working for me, refer to my mention of anxiety above...

But this is life and I'm fighting through it. I'm still breathing. I'm still waking up every morning.

These past few weeks have had a lot of hard moments intertwined with the normal busy chaos. I was planning a trip to Las Vegas with some friends and in that same week, Spidey started having meltdowns that I was leaving him so much.

I tried to spend quality time with both kids before leaving but as I drove away that night, I felt so much guilt. Because although I knew I needed some time to myself, I felt like the worst mother for walking away at the worst possible time.

I was having an incredible time. The days were some of the best I've had in a long time. But each time Spidey would call and cry, I would feel so torn between relaxing and just getting back to him and holding him.

Each day, I was laughing and relaxing and having some of the best conversations with some of my favorite people and each night, I prayed so hard that Spidey would feel comfort and that he could just enjoy his time with his dad.

Just leaving on this trip was brave for me. I have never been on a girls trip that didn't involve family members. I knew that when we started planning this, it would be tricky. Because although I have a few friends I tell everything to, I have so very many friends who mean so much to me and I've never been a fan of "clicks".

But it ended up being totally fine and I'm grateful for that because I worried about it. And I'm not the only one who worried about it.

These girls have been through a lot with me. Three of them spent the evening at the temple with me the night my husband left me. The other two have been equally incredible this year. I know this trip wasn't just planned by me and it definitely wasn't for me alone but it certainly was a perfect way to remember where I was a year ago and look at where I am today.

These friends were some of the first to know what was happening as my separation turned into divorce and they have checked in on me, even when I just wanted to stay in bed all day and cry.

Visiting the Las Vegas temple was high on my list and I'm so glad we fit it into our weekend because it was one of the highlights. I had the opportunity to really feel peace and relax and I stopped worrying about the kids for a while and think about what I needed in those moments.

Did I mention I was brave enough to wear my Porn Kills Love tshirt as we walked down the strip of Las Vegas?

The second we decided to go to Vegas, I knew I wanted to wear this shirt because this subject is something I believe so strongly in.

This is something I will never back down from. Ever.

As fearful and intimidated as I get around people, I just cannot take a back seat when the subject of pornography is brought up.

This week, in my Philosophy of Sexuality class, we watched an amazing video by the XXX Church about how porn kills. It was powerful and yet, I already knew what most of my class would think about it. As the video started, so did the snickers. The girl in front of me kept whispering to her neighbor, "That's so dumb. Porn kills what?!" and I wanted to shout, "PORN KILLS LOVE! IT KILLS MARRIAGES AND FAMILIES AND CAREERS!"

I could feel my heart beating all the way from my forehead to the tips of my toes. I felt like the video was going on forever and I wanted it to end because I knew what would happen next.

When it finally ended three hours eight minutes later, my teacher asked what our thoughts were and without another second, my hand shot up in the air. I took a deep breath and said something very similiar to this:

I know that my opinion won't be very popular among this class. I could hear the snickering and the confusion of what porn kills. I could see the eye rolls and the shaking heads. And I get it. Before last year, I didn't quite understand what pornography was capable of either. But my marriage was ruined because of pornography. My husband left me last year and my kids have had to endure our divorce and all of the pain that comes with their feelings of abandonment. Porn kills love and even if you think that statement is dramatic, I am living proof that it can be a true statement.

Pornography addiction has caused enough trauma in my life that I no longer am willing to sit in a room and not share my opinion if the subject is brought up. I knew I would not have an audience of people who understood what I have lived through but I will never regret that opportunity I had to share a part of my story with a room full of young college students.

I used to view pornography as bad mainly because of my religious beliefs but I never really knew what an addiction to pornography is capable of doing to an individual, to a marriage, and to a family.

There were some hard moments, walking around Vegas and seeing pornography and a lot of other things that made my heart so sad. This really is the world we live in.

I guess if I could just have one wish come true from all of the things I've learned it would be that each and every one of you who decides to click on my posts and read my words will do whatever you can to protect your families from pornography. And also that you'll love the people around you and have compassion. We can't understand everyone's situation but we can make a goal to try and remember that everyone has a story and everyone has trials. Try not to be hard on the people around you.


I am still alive tonight, friends. Although I've been so broken for so long, I see healing and the possibilities that come with moving on. When I look back on everything I've done this past year, I am hopeful that this next year will be full of even more growth.

God stretches me and teaches me and I am trying my hardest to learn what He wants me to learn.

And God Said, "Slow down!"

 Once upon a time, I was in the school counselor's office trying to figure out how to graduate from community college by May 2015. It was decided that I would take 17 credits Fall '14 and 15 credits Spring '15 so that I'd be ready to graduate and transfer to ASU.

I chanted the, "I can do hard things" quote in my head over and over again as I signed up for 6 classes and tried to figure out a schedule that worked for my life.

Sigh...

It took most of the summer. I kept leaving the task for another day because it was stressing me out.

Sometimes being a single mom sucks. It was so dang hard to find a schedule that would fit the classes I need and keep us in a mostly normal routine.

I finally did it and signed up for all Tuesday/Thursday classes, all during the day---except for one stupid class that I could only find on Thursday nights.

I figured the sacrifice would be something I could handle for four months. And the thing is, it was possible.

But right when school started, I decided to go back to work. And right when I decided to go back to work, Spidey started preschool.

And right when all of this happened, Spidey started crying a lot when he would get dropped off to babysitters.

And my mom guilt became a huge burden because all I wanted to do was quit everything and stay home with him all day, every day.

So let's recap:
A week into my new job and school starting, I was ready to throw it all away.
A week.

 Well, God knows me. He knows I won't just quit, even when things are really frickin hard. He knows I'll kill myself until I get everything fit into our crazy schedule.

I'm the least perfect perfectionist in the entire world. Our house is crazy, our schedule is crazy, and my kids are sticky-faced and wearing mismatched shoes.

But I'm really hard on myself and I try to fit it all in and get it all done.

 Well, due to some unforseen circumstances, I was dropped from my Thursday night class. When I found this news out, I had a moment of panic and I just wanted to crawl in a hole. But following my panic, I felt an incredible amount of peace come over me and I felt like God was saying, "Slow down!"

He knows how busy we are. He knows that it's hard for Spidey to get used to having a working mom. And I feel like he found a way to teach me that it's ok to slow down a little bit.

I can't be a super mom. I can be the mom that my kids need but I really can't be much more.

Most days, I'm just hanging on by a thread. I've been struggling a lot lately and I just can't seem to find my bravery that everyone else seems to believe I have within me. I'm not giving myself breaks. In fact, I've been pushing myself harder than ever before.

So God said, "Slow down." and all I could do was nod my head and realize that He is right.

I have my whole life ahead of me. I'm only 26 years old and my kids are still young. We can slow things down a tiny bit sometimes. As much as I want to rush through school and be able to provide a better life for my kids RIGHT NOW, I feel a whole lot of peace tonight as I think about how rushed we already are.

I can do hard things...but I don't have to push myself farther than I need to right now.

It's ok that I need to slow down. It doesn't make me weak. It just makes me human.

No One is Youer than You

 

I've always loved that Dr. Seuss quote, "Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you."

Truth be told, no one is better at being you than you are. Even on the worst of days and especially on the best of days.

I have to admit, there have been many times in my life I've wished to be someone else---someone skinnier, someone richer, someone smarter, etc. When I let my insecurities run my life, I become unhappy with the woman God intended me to be.

Although I don't believe God intended me to be a divorced mother of two when He created me, I know that He intended for me to be brave and strong. I know that He intended for me to fight my battles and love who I am. He knew I was going to go through these things and He placed building blocks along the way to teach me how to deal with them.

I firmly believed in that through my teenage years, miscarriage, marriage trials, infertility, and divorce.
But recently, I lost it. I lost some of my faith in allowing God to be in charge. I lost some of my faith in seeing the plan He has and knowing He can help me feel better. Because it just kept getting harder instead of better.

And hello? Not fair!

Amiright?

I needed a change.

Anger has been the first phase I allowed. When I first started to feel all of my anger, I fought it off because I just don't want to be that person. I want to be happy all of the time. But I have realized that I need to allow my feelings to come OUT so they don't stay in.

So I have been writing my anger out and working on the things that cause me to feel hurt.

Booyah, right?

And vomiting my feelings onto paper really did help me to see a glimpse of the hope I used to have. It also helped me to realize that I cannot do this on my own right now. And that's ok.

It's ok to need help. Ugh. Even writing that sentence kinda made me feel yucky. I still don't like needing help but my heart does tell me that it's ok. If I was giving advice to someone else, I'd tell them it was ok to need help.

So it must be ok for me too.

And thankfully, when I start to really doubt and lose my hope, God sends me little reminders that He loves me and has my back...always and forever. Last week, it was in the form of a song a friend sent me.

That song has become this week's theme song.


I hope you know you're not alone. I hope you know that there is a God and that He loves you for you, not for the choices you've made or the way you look.

Even though that's hard for me to believe all of the time, I'm grateful I can hold onto the things I write in my journal and on this blog of the good days, the days where I can fully see how much better it is that God is in control and not me.

One Truth, A Thousand Lies

I am a chain breaker. A lot of hard things have happened in my life and I want to be the one to fight them, to challenge them until the chains are broken.

Addiction is full of chains. Addiction is full of heartache and lies and secrecy.

I am the addict and the person affected by addiction. I have had to re-learn how to live life since April because in some really dark moments, my world was shattered and everything I had trusted as truth had turned to lies.

It only took one truth to learn about so many lies.

I don't know if I've ever felt lower than I did in April. Maybe as a teenager I got close, maybe a little bit when I was first diagnosed with infertility, but never quite as brutal as April.

Journal entry from February 2014: The thing is, if I would've been a different person, maybe none of this would've happened. If I would've been more patient or less controlling with him, maybe he would've loved me more. And if I would've taken better care of myself and stayed skinny, he wouldn't have left.

Now that he's gone, I don't want this to happen again. I want to be a different person so I don't drive anyone else away. I want to change some of the main things I used to like about myself because it's more important that other people like me."

When I wrote those words, I never intended to share them with anyone besides my counselor. They were raw surfaced emotions I was feeling about the things happening in my life. And unfortunately, they happened to be feelings I had and wrote about before April, when I found the missing puzzle piece to my broken marriage.

So you can imagine how much worse I felt after finding out I had been second (or third or fourth or fifth) to the devil's internet for years. You can imagine how discarded and empty and worthless I felt when I realized I was broken in a thousand places.

But God knew I wouldn't be able to handle it on my own. He had already set up the support and love I would need during this extremely confusing and dark time.
Some family members thought I already knew about the addiction because I attended The Togetherness Project and in the main description, it states: Join with other courageous women who are gathering together in a spirit of sisterhood to help overcome the betrayal of trust and emotional pain associated with a loved one's pornography addiction and/or infidelity.
Yeah, surprising, isn't it? I honestly didn't know.
I was attending the project because a friend had invited me. I was going through a divorce, life felt super messy, and I welcomed any and all support in the form of a sisterhood.
And support me, they did.

I've learned a lot about pornography addiction in the last three months than ever before in my life. I've written an essay for school on the subject, I've discussed among friends, and I've read a ton of statistics.

I've become a fighter because I feel like it is a part of me. I feel like I can make a difference just by bringing awareness to the *fact* that pornography kills love.

Artificial love is not the same thing as real love.

Satan is trying and he is succeeding. Men and women are getting lost in the internet world of pornography and most of them are feeling an incredible amount of shame and worthlessness because they can't just kick their habit.

Within my church, we often shy away from talking about the nitty gritty of pornography addiction because it is uncomfortable. I've heard people preach that "good men/women don't look at pornography" and it makes me want to throw up because guess what? THEY DO!

Good men and women are trapped in this world full of lies and heartache, not only for themselves but for their spouses or future relationships. These aren't disgusting people, they are our family and friends, our very own loved ones! They are struggling in secrecy because if they came out and talked about their addiction, they would risk judgment and people looking at them in a whole different light.

But what makes them different? Nothing, really.

Because it can happen to anyone. It isn't just an addiction for boys or girls or teenagers or adults or poor people or rich people; pornography takes anyone and everyone it can. That's the way Satan set this up.

Did you know that pornography literally changes chemicals in the brain? "On the surface, cocaine and porn don’t seem to have a lot in common but studies are showing that viewing pornography tricks your brain into releasing the same pleasure chemicals that drugs do. What’s more is your brain actually begins to rewire itself because of this artificial stimulation." source

Covenant Eyes states that 9 out of 10 boys and 6 out of 10 girls have been introduced to pornography before they are 18 years old and the average age of exposure is now 7. SEVEN!

The statistics are scary. You can go to either of the websites I linked and you will find more.

I have joined this fight in the way that I can, by bringing awareness and also by opening the discussion about judgment and what our purpose here is; because I highly doubt God would put us on this earth to judge and ridicule each other.

But along with my fight to bring more awareness, I am still a woman affected by pornography addiction. I have still felt a lot of loss and pain and confusion these past few months, mourning a huge part of my life that now seems too painful to remember.

Divorce life brought a lot of heartache into my life. Learning about the pornography brought a heartache I didn't know could even exist.

My eating disorder is one of the main demons I refer to when I talk about my brokeness after our separation. And I've viewed my eating disorder the same as some people might view their pornography addiction or some other type of addiction; it is shameful.

But it is common and I am choosing to open up to you because you may be struggling too. You might be feeling broken and bruised in an otherwise safe-looking world. Because eating disorders tell us we aren't good enough and that controlling our eating or exercising will bring us the happiness we are searching for.

My eating disorder tells me I wasn't as skinny or beautiful as the women in the internet. My eating disorder tells me that he left because of my physical appearance. My eating disorder tells me I'll be happier when I weigh a certain amount or control the hell out of my eating.

Because control is a huge part of this. When my life was pulled out from under me, I felt unstable, out of control, and absolutely defeated.

And if you're wondering the most important lesson I've learned from fighting my eating disorder and fighting the lies it tells me about myself, it is that I am not happier when I'm listening to my eating disorder. I am not happier when I am starving myself or purging to avoid weight gain. I am not happier when I hyper-focus on my flaws and decide I have to do whatever it takes to get rid of them.

I'm not.

Because this girl

And this girl

And this girl

And this girl are ALL the same person and not one of them is better or more worthy than the other.

They are all me. I am every single one of those pictures.

My eating disorder tells me a lot of lies and it is often hard to distinguish between the truths and the false information inside of my brain. I am on a journey to healing myself, learning more about my disorder, and challenging the lies inside of my head.

I've learned that a spouse's pornography addiction can directly coincide with a person developing an eating disorder. Although that wasn't the case for me, pornography addiction seemed to validate everything I had been fighting not to believe about myself for years. It brought a lot of insecurities I already had and magnified them by three thousand.

But I guess I'm here to tell you that it is a fight worth fighting. The life I live, although messy, is beautiful beyond anything I could've comprehended. I fight for my children. I fight for you.

And I'm learning that I am worth my fight too. I am worth more than any amount of money or weight or artificial love. I am worth fighting for. 

We are all worth fighting for.