Y'all. Sometimes life is hard.
NEWSFLASH! I'm sure you had no idea. Haha!
I'm still dealing with all this. All that has happened in the last few months seems so insignificant, yet it changed everything.
I was in a less than stellar place for quite a while. I'm not entirely out of it, but it has gotten much better.
You see, being broken up with, no matter what the reason, WRECKS your confidence. I forgot that I'm more than the size of my clothes and the cellulite on my thighs. I forgot that my dreams and ideas and (most of all) my relationship with my Father define me. Not how I look in a dress, not if my thighs touch. Not if my tummy has grown a little. I forgot that what makes up me has absolutely nothing to do with the way a random passerby might perceive me. Whoa. Newsflash (#2!): the world ain't about you, girly. All those people whose opinions you obsess over have their own lives. And guess what! They probably didn't even notice you, much less that your legs aren't perfect.
Breathe.
That's... a relief. I can't tell you how preoccupied I've been with that.
Hello! Can you say narcissistic, Ash?!
Here's the deal, I want someone (not just anyone) to fall in love with how in love I am with Jesus. How shallow would a relationship be that was based upon a boy's admiration of the way I look. A Few pounds will come and go, I'll get wrinkles, I'll get older, and by default, less physically attractive.
I want a man who falls in love with the Joy of Christ that is within me. The love of the Father that I try (and often, so often, fail) to emulate. I want a man to see a light in me that has absolutely nothing to do with my thighs! Wow, it took me that long to realize this?
I'm not going to lie, I have rough days. I have facebook stalking days. I have days where I cry. I have days where I am completely consumed by how much I hate my body that it is crippling. I Have days where I obsess over what he is doing and does he miss me and how will I ever be ok after this?
But then I have days where I remember to pray. I remember to whisper a prayer for the passing person, rather than wonder what they think of me. I have days where I see just how much this world is hurting and wish desperately that I could help it. So, I pray. And I pray again. And I listen to some Tenth Avenue North (sidenote: LOVE) and I remember that I am more than than the choices that I've made and more than the sum of my past mistakes. That I have been remade!
And when I feel my most unlovable, and worthless, and like I will never measure up, I remember that Jesus died for me.
He died for me.
He died for me.
He died for me.
I was worth everything to Him.
How dare I think that I'm not worth anything.
