Love Letter to a 15-year-old me: confidence, choices, and conceit

Being in constant contact with high school students in the classroom and having a heart for high school girls, I am constantly reflecting on what a mess I was in high school and to be honest, most of college. My identity was vested in so many things: clothes, people's perception of me, appearances, and the list continues, that I forgot my true identity was a daughter of Christ. Although, I definitely have not discovered the secret formula for self-actualization, realizing my worth and identity are alone for the glory of Christ is quite the game-changer.

In honor of Valentine's Week, I thought it would be appropriate to write a love letter to myself during a time when I so frequently disliked, or even hated, rather than appreciated, loved, and clothed myself in joy as I am learning to do presently. Loving myself is an on-going battle that I have to commit myself to daily, and to anyone who truly struggles with this be encouraged my friend, one day I promise you will smile at the girl you see smiling back!

Dear 15-year-old-me,

Today, you probably cried. You do that a lot lately. Today, you called yourself fat (or implied it), you didn't eat that much, then you ate too much. You do a whole lot of that. Oh, you worked out a lot, too. Sweet girl, please. just. stop. You are beautiful. Let me assure you you won't feel that way for quite sometime, but you have to trust me (or us, however this works). You aren't beautiful because some guy said you were hott. You aren't beautiful because your friends liked your outfit today or asked you how you did your eye makeup. You aren't beautiful because you fit into your self-professed "skinny-goal-jeans". You aren't beautiful because someone texted you today or IMed you (don't get used to that Instant Messenger thing). You aren't beautiful because you have an epic amount of friends compared to the days when you had so few. I think we had about zero, remember that? You aren't beautiful because of your talent to hide your home life from your friends or your fear of losing your mom. I know it is insane and you feel like you could absolutely never, ever, ever feel beautiful but my-goodness you are. You are beautiful because you are bought by the grace of a King. He calls you beautiful and that is infinitely more significant than the "best dressed" superlative you are vying for. The creator of the entire universe (!) calls you "His". Rejoice in that. Find life there. Feed your soul this truth, oozing with goodness. You do not have to continue feeding yourself jabs and tugs at your heart. You don't deserve the scowls you give yourself in the mirror or the on-going repertoire of sarcastic rhetoric you hide behind. Girl. I wish I could stand beside you and hug you. You (we) have never been talented in letting others in, but you will feel such overwhelming freedom if you allow yourself to stop carrying around guilt and righteousness. Instead of looking around you to the left, to your friend who is smarter than you, or the to the right, to your friend who is prettier (i.e. skinnier) than you cling to the gospel for ultimate confidence. I know you haven't fully figured out what the Gospel is. You haven't quite figured out the difference between religion and relationship.

Gosh, just don't condemn others. Speak goodness, never hate. For now, love others fearlessly. You have been blessed with wonderful friends and they need you as much as you need them. Don't let your feelings get hurt when you feel left out, it happens. Control your tongue--oh, it gets you into trouble. Speak life-giving words. Spend more time with Christ than you do getting ready in the morning. Pour out kindness. You have so many incredible examples of what kindness looks like. Start a book journal, you never remember all the books you read. Don't play the comparison game--you lose a lot. You still have a lot of hard lessons to learn. Your heart gets broken a few times (by the same immature boy). You break a heart and feel awful about it. Learn to forgive yourself. Forgive others too, you are really bad at that (it only gets a little better). Show as much grace to others as is shown to you. Praise yourself for working really hard, it pays off. Believe God's plan is beautiful and He designed it intricately. Work harder. Always remain thankful and humble. Good for you for being kind to people different than you--do that more, a lot more. Guard your heart, don't forget where you throw the key. Crying isn't weak. You are a strong warrior, but don't forget to grow weak before Christ. Pray, then pray some more. Lastly sweet girl, cling to joy. CLING to joy with both hands. There are things around you that you just don't control and those things hurt you, but you are going to learn about renewing joy and it is going to rock your world. Figure out everything there is to know about the cross and allow it to lead your path.


I hope you like me when you meet me.

You

i am (transparent).

I have long aspired to write a blog. I follow a many of blogs and consequently carry on imaginary friendships with the girls whom I follow-- I know their dogs' names, what their last #ootd was, and creepily could pick out their wedding pictures from a line-up. My love of blogging transcends to my Pinterest page, to my Instagram feed, and obviously my Bloglovin' account. My husband used to curiously look through pictures as I scrolled through my Instagram feed and wonder who these unidentifiable people were and the cause of my fascination with them; however, he now too knows them.

So, why the fascination and why am I now entering the blogosphere after years of blog loving?

Because social media is a scary thing that beguiles onlookers: I choose what others see, I choose to include the good and omit the bad, I can fool others into thinking I have it all together on even the ugliest of days. I am unlikely to post a picture of my new decor when my apartment is in havoc or to show off my outfit when I am wearing sweats. I am not pointing fingers at anyone, but I will be the first to admit I am quick to cover up my flaws (and MAC is not the only culprit). I am a private girl with walls sky-high. Even the closest of my friends do not know many obstacles I have faced until much later in our relationships (if ever-oops) and I would hide out in a bathroom for hours on end, rather than let others see me cry. I cannot create a 140-character response to explain this phenomenon. My privacy issues or trust issues or playing-it-perfect issues are much deeper than a trite response, but this blog is my way of accepting grace. As I have grown in my relationship with Christ, an ongoing source of pretending to have it together (fyi: my quiet-time box has not been checked off yet today) and now, as I embark on a new journey as a wife I realize the absolute need to be transparent. Caveat: If you are planning on getting married, transparency evolves quite rapidly. No snotty nose unheard and no embarrassingly holey leggings unseen. More so than that, I crave transparency for accountability. Transparency to gain trust and give trust. Transparency to accept I am flawed, yet loved, cared for, and sought after by a King who is bigger than my imperfections.

This year, I vow to not only be more transparent, but also to strive to find worth in Christ alone. Another scary and overwhelming characteristic of social media is the desire for instant gratification. 2013 will forever be the year of me posting too many engagement pictures, too many wedding pictures, and the like. Those life-altering events were well worth the likes I received, but I didn't need a notification to affirm me. I find delight in the approval of others liking, loving, and commenting on these precious moments, but this year I plan to put my phone down much more, close my computer more frequently, and allow my dependence on Christ to define me. 

I follow the bloggers I follow and obsess over their Insta feeds and like their idealistic lives because I admire their transparency--but really, how transparent are they? Once again, I am not accusing others of a flaw that might be solely mine to own, but I resolve to use this blog as a space to be real. I want to encourage others in the only way I know how: you are not alone in your search for belonging and accepting your flaws, even on the ugliest, snottiest, and ungraceful of days.