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.

God Loves Me: Lessons from a 4 year old

 I find it appropriate that this post came to mind on a night where I am snuggling up next to my favorite little boy while his sister spends the night at her grandparents.

Spidey and I have always had a special connection. From the time he was a baby, I would wear him around the house in the sling or moby wrap and he would stare at me with his perfect hazel eyes. I always had this strong feeling that he was going to help me in some significant way, I just didn't think it would start at such a young age.

 My eating disorder started to take over when the divorce became reality. I was done. I couldn't handle life. I couldn't handle the fact that I was overweight and worthless and that he probably left me because I was no longer good enough for him.

I was trying to hold on and fight for my children. I had been doing well for eight whole years and I was scared that I was breaking. How could this be happening? How selfish am I that I couldn't fight hard enough for my kids?
I blamed myself and shamed myself every day. I believed I was stupid for not taking care of myself when I should've had my focus on the aching hearts of my children. Why was I so selfish?!

I was struggling in school and struggling with friendships. I needed help but I was pushing people away because I no longer felt worthy of the friends who had been there from day one. Honestly I felt worthy of no one.

Once I found out about the pornography addiction, I broke. I couldn't hold on any longer. I was done. My counselor had seen that things were getting worse and we had talked about how I might need an eating disorder therapist but I hate change and I had learned to trust her. I didn't want to leave. Cancelling my final session with her was an extremely hard thing for me to do. I sent that text as quick as I could before I could back out of it.

And when I say I broke, I'm telling you, I completely broke. My final breaking point will be left detail-less on this blog because it is too hard for me to re-live but I knew I needed to heal.

The night of my eating-disorder-hell-wake-up-call, I was texting a friend and I was struggling to believe God loved me or that anyone loved me. I was trying to put groceries away and right then and there, I fell to the floor and started sobbing uncontrollably. I felt so alone and broken and scared.

I was laying on my cold tile floor when I saw a little red headed boy peek his head around the corner. It was late so I was surprised to see him there. And as soon as I noticed, he was gone. I figured he had gone back to bed and I was in no condition to pick myself up yet so I layed there and continued to cry.

But without another second to think, that little red head came back around the corner, this time with two pillows and a blanket. He lifted my head up and placed a pillow underneath and then he layed down beside me and pulled the blanket over both of us. And he said to me, "Mom, I'm just going to lay here with you until you feel better." and we layed there and I cried and he wrapped his arm around my neck.
A four year old boy was prompted to do what God knew I needed that night. A tiny four year old boy.

 I felt God's love that night. I felt His presence and I trusted that He would be able to help me overcome this trial in my life.
I can do this with Him. I can do it with the people He has placed in my life to give me strength.

It was the most beautiful ending to one of the worst days I have ever experienced.

I think back on that experience and I am in awe of all the things my son has taught me in his four and a half years on earth. He taught me an extremely important lesson that night, a lesson that has helped me continue to fight and recover and beat the crap out of the nasty lies in my head that tell me I'm not good enough.

I have learned that I will always have an eating disorder. But I am a fighter and I am strong enough to challenge the lies in my head and recognize them as lies.

I am so thankful that I can look back on some of my darkest days and compare them to where I am now and realize I have done this. I have fought to get here and be this new person and have the courage to continue on with my life and make it a beautiful life.

Spidey will always be my baby boy. Always. And I will never forget the time he reminded me just how much God loves me.

Hard, Happy, Selfish, Angry, Faithful, Grumpy, Beautiful

Today is a hard day to explain.

I've had many low days---a lot of them in the past 2 weeks.
I didn't think it would be possible to pull through. Two weeks ago, I looked at my future and it didn't look bright.
I couldn't handle these new truths. I couldn't handle the reality that I'm learning has been the past 6 years of my life. I just couldn't do it.

Too painful. Too hard. Too real.

But three days ago, I hit a breaking point. I realized I am not this girl! I'm not the girl who breaks down in church on Mother's Day because she is so grumpy about her current life. I am not the girl who is inconsiderate of others' feelings because I'm so busy wrapped up in my own sad world. I am not the girl who acts selfishly instead of serving others.
I'm just not.
I'm not saying I'm perfect but I've always found joy in helping others and it's always been something that I love to do.

I had a wake up call that snapped me out of this hatred that has started to fester in my heart. I am not going to give in to Satan! I am not going to abandon my faith and my kind-hearted nature (Are you laughing about that last part? I swear, I try to have a kind heart.).

Monday, I fought. I fought so well that I wondered if this would just be easy.
But Tuesday was harder. Tuesday took a little bit more out of me when I fought---but fight, I did.
And today has been one of the best days I've had in a LONG time. Because today, I don't question my faith in God and I don't question my heart. There are too many explanations that made up today being a great day and I won't go into them.

But I am grateful; grateful for a day of peace, grateful for hope, and grateful for the people in my life. I know I talk about "the people in my life" often. The funny thing is, they aren't always the same people. Heavenly Father knows who I need when I need them and someone always seems to be there who can help me through whatever crap I'm going through.

I cannot deny God's hand in any of this. I just cannot.

After such a wonderful day, I signed onto the computer and was staring at images of my Petey from her recent birthday photoshoot and I just couldn't help but be amazed that I've been a mother for almost six years now.

Through all of the trials and all of the heartbreak, I know I am where I need to be right now. Being a mother is the most important thing in my life and I often am in awe that my Heavenly Father gave me THESE kids---because although they aren't perfect, they are perfect for me.

I love life today. I wasn't sure if I would ever fully feel that way again. I can guarantee you I will still struggle but tonight, I am overwhelmed with how much I love my life---my current life.

The Body Image Issue

Disclaimer---kind of: I feel a teensy bit like a hypocrite for writing this because I struggle every day but I'm going to write it anyway. This isn't meant to say that I'm super awesome and love myself always and never struggle. It's actually because I struggle that I'm super passionate about issues like this.

The Body Image Issue

I wrote an essay this week on body image and how the media affects this issue and a lot of what drove me to choose that topic is based on my own personal experiences mixed with my anger toward some of the things I've seen in the media lately.

Let's get real, friends. The media does, absolutely does, affect our world! Everywhere we look, we see images of flawless, stick-thin women and toned, athletic men. What are our children going to grow up thinking about themselves if we don't take a stand and teach them of their worth from a young age?
I know it gets hard. I know most of the things parents say are out of love but please promise me or yourself or your children something today. Never ever ever ever EVER comment on your child's body size to them. Never. Because they already get that from the media. They will already struggle with whether they are perfect enough or worthy enough for their dream guy/girl to run with them into the sunset and live happily ever after. I can assure you they will worry about it. What they need from us is to teach them that the media is WRONG. What they need are people to fight against the model-like body type that probably 2% of women can actually attain and celebrate who they are for who they are.

In an article I recently read, it stated that "body dissatisfaction manifests throughout the lifespan with girls as young as nine years of age desiring to lose weight." source NINE YEARS OLD, friends. I was 9 years old in the 3rd grade and actually, I mentioned weeks ago in my Eating Disorder Awareness post that I was dissatisfied with my body at age 6. I distinctly remember it and it wasn't fun...and it still isn't fun.

''For the modern woman, being thin is the ultimate form of perfection, the kind of personal control required to become the new Superwoman parallels the single-mindedness that characterizes the anorectic" source

I’ve witnessed some pretty appalling commercials and advertisements in my adulthood; advertisements for shoes that sexualize women, advertisements for hair products that sexualize women, advertisements for jewelry that sexualize women, etc. In each of these commercials, I have recognized a similar trend of a half-naked woman with a flawless body. I grew up watching these things on television and having this idea in my mind that thin would make me wanted and beautiful and worth something. For teen girls and women, this is a dangerous cycle and for teen boys and men, this is a detrimental view of what women should be. Men are being raised to see images in the media of perfection and not very many women are able to attain that perfection men might desire. For women, this creates a serious eating disorder problem. For men, this creates a serious pornography problem. The life we all want to obtain is demoralized by the things we have become insensitive to on our televisions and through the internet.

One of the key factors in body image is the depression so many adolescents face because of the stigma that being thin is the best thing you can be. This creates a pressure on our youth that many of them will carry well into adulthood. “A young woman between the ages of eighteen and thirty-four years has a 7 percent chance of being as thin as a catwalk model and a 1 percent chance of being as thin as a supermodel. Models and many actresses are abnormally thin, but teenage girls who are not thin may view these images and believe that something is wrong with them.” source How do we change this ideological behavior? When will enough be enough? Most of us would agree that we want our children, our peers, and ourselves to love who we are for what we are but how do we change the world’s stigma of “thin is in”? We can start by advocating for real women in magazines and teaching our children and friends about these distorted images. We can also start by accepting the people around us, no matter their looks. We need to throw away the ideas in our minds about body image and start accepting who we are for what we are. This comes easier for some than it does for others. A lot of women already struggle with eating disorders because of the massive amounts of pressure they get from the media about being thin. We are bombarded daily with commercials, advertisements, billboards, and many other types of media influences that we are having to fight constantly.  

There is one commercial in particular that I've had the unfortunate opportunity to watch and ponder. You all know what Reebok is, right? You know, that shoe company...the shoe company that sells shoes...that shoe company that sells shoes and apparently sex, all in the same commercial! Friends, if you'd like to look up the Miranda Kerr Reebok commercial on your own, feel free. I can almost assure you that you won't be happy with it. And if you find yourself unhappy with it, I'd be really happy to help you stand against this type of thing with me! I have already emailed them, tweeted them, and Facebooked them and since I put links on each of those phrases, feel free to send them your own opinions as well. We need Reebok to know that their shoes can sell without sexualizing women. They are shoes! What in the heck do shoes have to do with sex?!

It's a sad world we live in when advertisers of all types are using sex to sell their products. Hmm, shouldn't your product be good enough as is?

 The effect the media has on body image is scary and sad but we can fight! We can fight against commercials that are distasteful. We can fight against the very thoughts in our heads that tell us we aren't good enough. We can fight for our children and future generations!

Let's not allow the media to define who we should be.

Let's try so so so SO hard to be good enough as is.

We are enough. We have always been enough.

Loving Myself: Escaping My Masks

"I catch myself trying to cover up the parts of myself that I don't accept. It's like a mask. I think masks say, "Approve me. Accept me. Love me." (but) masks don't say, "This is me.". So what am I without the masks? What am I from the inside out?" -Sabrina Ward Harrison-

 

I'm covered in masks, big and small. I think we all are to some degree. Some of us are more comfortable in our own skin than others and we show others who we are more often but we all develop masks.

When you experience heartache, do you really feel it? Or do you have a mask that is comforting in those situations?

I do.

My biggest mask is sarcasm.

I don't like to cry so I make jokes instead. It doesn't even feel like a nervous habit, it is natural now. I have a hard time feeling.

I feel like smiling has also been a mask, even though that isn't always the case. I smile genuinely but I also smile when I don't want anyone to know what I'm feeling.

 

Last week, my divorce was final. It's been an interesting week filled with interesting remarks. Obviously, after 6 months of paperwork, ups and downs, and feeling so stuck in limbo, it was relieving in a lot of ways. I got comments spanning from, "It's a new beginning" to "I'm a bit jealous that you get to date again" to "I'm really, truly sorry". It felt like it's own mini-rollercoaster.

If you'd like to know what one of my masks is, it is me saying I'm excited to date again. Ha! I was never excited to date. I am scared out of my frickin mind! What I am excited about is the possibility of the mature decisions I am able to make to benefit my future. I am not excited to date and feel rejection and happiness and more rejection and more happiness and all of the ups and downs that come with dating.

Ick.

 

{Maybe it'll end up being better than it is playing out in my mind? One can hope.}

 

Being "finally" divorced {in what was actually a pretty quick and painless divorce} just seems so final, so personally unstable, and so sad. I know I'd choose to do it all over again and not only because of the two children who are now mine forever. I'd choose to do it all over again because it was real love and we were really happy and life was hard and good. I've learned way too much to give any of that up. And my ex-husband (Could someone find me a better name than that? And not baby daddy...weirdos...) is my friend and we are both still invested in our children and their future.

 

But I'm still hiding behind so many masks because I'm afraid of change and the future and possibilities---because some possible outcomes aren't great and others are wonderful. 

 I lost 17 pounds and posted the above picture on Facebook because I was proud. But I almost immediately felt guilty because this picture was a mask. I haven't been losing weight because I love myself, I've been losing weight because I feel inadequate.
It's a hard balance because I feel like weightloss will make me more loveable, more beautiful, more everything but I know I should focus on the fact that losing weight will be good for my health. I choose to focus on the first part more than I should. I often do feel inadequate and I'm trying to make up for that in some way. I'm trying to wade through mucky fields filled with thorns and thistles and come out on top. I choose the hard way way too often. I blame myself for things that have happened because if I just would've been better, seen these things coming, been more giving, etc., they wouldn't have happened, right?

I use the phrase "I deserve this" a lot when it comes to my heartache but yesterday, while riding my bike to a park a few miles away, I had this overwhelming feeling of happiness and freedom and the very first thought that came into my mind was, "You deserve this!"

It's been a while since I've felt that way, so free and full of life. I thought the events from the past few years had stolen that from me but they haven't; I just lost it for a while.

So without any masks, who am I?

I am sensitive; more sensitive than I feel comfortable with. I'm trying to embrace that and just understand that I am who I am. My feelings get hurt easily but I'm also quick to forgive.
I am bubbly. I love laughing.
I am way too loud.
I speak before thinking.
I am insecure.
I want to be a good friend and a good mom and a good daughter and sister. I am a people pleaser.
I am afraid of people leaving me.
I have a strong testimony that Jesus Christ died for me and that He alone understands my pain.
I have a positive personality and can usually believe that things will get better when they're tough---and when things are good, I recognize it.

I'm trying to work on shedding some of my masks to be comfortable with who I am.
Because who I am should be good enough.

Loving Myself: Protecting Myself

 The thought of protecting myself has seemed so foreign since it was introduced to me weeks ago. When I say this, I'm not talking about a physical protection, although I could definitely work on that too. What I'm talking about is an emotional and spiritual protection.

I was once a little girl with so many dreams; dreams of becoming a famous actor or singer or dancer, dreams of making a huge impact on the world, dreams of volunteering in third world countries and saving lives, even dreams of becoming a surgeon and saving lives daily. As a child, this all seemed realistic and I imagined my life would be full of bliss and free of challenges---but then really, who ever imagines their life full of challenges when they are little?

As a little girl, I was often obnoxious, rude, and I felt like everyone's biggest problem. I always seemed to be in the way. I was sandwiched between amazingly, talented older sisters and two younger special needs siblings. I often believed I was bad because I craved attention all of the time. It was hard to feel stuck because when I didn't get attention, I was lonely but when I got attention, it was often in the form of someone telling me I was trying to get too much attention.

First issue: I felt like an attention-seeker.

 I look at pictures of that little girl and it makes me sad that I can't be the one to go back in time and protect her from her pain. I know my parents knew I "had issues" but no one really knew why or what to do about any of it. Not even me. I was taken to therapists but that only validated my feelings of being a bad kid because 'good kids don't see therapists'. Because I'm a member of a 6 kid family {and I wouldn't trade that for anything...well, maybe 200 million dollars...wait, no...I wouldn't trade it for anything! =)}, I know that getting my parents' attention full time wasn't feasible nor should it have been. But I do know that I needed someone, something to make me feel like I belonged.

I know that now, I didn't know it then.

I grew up so self-conscious about my personality that I overexagerrated often. I told people I prided myself in being different. I didn't want to be like them. I wanted to be over-the-top all of the time. And a part of that is true. I really, truly loved being me. 'Me' was such a special term because I liked who I was.

 But that didn't last forever. It became a hit and miss feeling. Sometimes I loved everything about myself and other times, I couldn't find one single thing to love. I stuffed a lot of pain deep down inside of myself because I didn't want to seem sad and quite frankly, I didn't want to be sad.

I used to think I was this open book, this person that overly-spilled her feelings but looking back and looking forward, my current therapist would laugh from that assumption. It's hard for me to open up about the real stuff. It's hard for me to get emotional because I'm so darn afraid of getting hurt or being judged or even just judging myself for seeming weak.

So many of those feelings seemed left behind when I graduated and was quickly married to that awesome guy who gave me two gorgeous children. I think marriage validated that I was worth something, that someone believed I was worth something. Marriage validated that I had someone who would always be rooting for me, who would always believe in me.

So you can imagine where this is going.

Divorce changed all of that.

 Feelings have resurfaced left and right, dating all the way to early childhood years. At first, I didn't understand this and I didn't want to face it. I absolutely adore my parents and have this fear that by talking about the hard in my childhood, things will resurface in all of us that will take things back to the way they were. Or maybe they'll think I'm ungrateful for the many good experiences I had. Or maybe everyone will perceive me as this giant attention-seeker because quite honestly, that's how I perceive myself.

When I serve others, I'm often double and triple checking to make sure I'm not serving "for the wrong reasons". And if I can successfully label any part of my service as attention-seeking behavior, I feel guilty and I tell myself I'm really, truly, an innately selfish being.

When I'm going through trials, there is a point where I have always believed everything should be better and I should no longer be hurting or bringing attention to myself because that is just overreacting and attention-seeking. My worry of not wanting to be an attention-seeker makes it so that I often lie about the way I'm feeling. And if I do tell the truth, my goodness I'm afraid I'll lose those people I trust so much in my life.

Because even people you trust can leave you.

So here we are. Today. I'm trying to grasp my head around the fact that I need to protect myself from myself. I need to be the type of person I can trust. The bully in my life is me and that is hard to realize.

I like to label a certain reaction of mine as the "spiral effect". In my life, this is the effect that happens when I see an imperfection in myself so I start beating myself down. I'm an emotional bully but only when it comes to me. I often perceive myself as this being that creates drama and annoys people around her. When people thank me for something good I've done, my mind says, "You did that good thing but...*insert some other excuse as to why I'm NOT good here*."

So my goal is to protect that little girl inside of me that always wanted love and sometimes needed extra attention. Instead of hating her and making things worse, I want to love her and encourage her to blossom.

Sounds easy, right?

No, not really. Not even a little bit.

But remember...I can do hard things.