To the person that doesn’t feel beautiful right now

I get it.

I know it’s hard feeling beautiful sometimes.

For many of us, genuine self confidence is a major hurdle.

‘Because I’m not beautiful …’

Says your mind.

Your mind is lying.

You can’t win the game it’s playing.

You’ve been chasing after perfection as if it’s obtainable.

But your eyes are lying too.

In this messy world with these cookie cutter goals…

The girl you see with what looks like everything, is living with a broken mirror as well.

She has her self imposed imperfections on display, yet none can see except the broken eyes that feel this way.

We are our own toughest critics.

Nobody sees us like we see ourselves.

Many of us are too busy shredding our own insecurities to have time to nitpick the invisible “flaws” in others.

I know that when you go out and feel like a spotlight is on you, like everyone is staring at your “flaws”, it’s hard to believe it.

But the streets are not filled with these materialistic beliefs that we are hammering into ourselves.

**eye roll**

Goes your mind.

Maybe you don’t feel beautiful because a toxic relationship stripped you of every sense of your worth.

As much as you try to remember who you really are, those pieces feel as if they are fading away.

Maybe a hurtful comment has branded truth into your negative feelings about yourself.

‘It must be true because someone else said it.’

So, SO false.

There is truth in the statement, “you will never be happy if your happiness is somewhere else”.

We feed these inner voices that are constantly compromising our happiness.

What if we really didn’t “need to just lose five pounds”, or “get a littleeee bit of Botox”, and we could just love ourselves like God loves us, simply?

What if instead of drowning in a pool of everything we hate about ourselves, we worked towards silencing those thoughts with the things we like about ourselves?

What if we tried “nurturing ourselves beautiful” instead of continuously failing at “hating ourselves pretty”?

Such a profound display of self love could be the key that unlocks your prison.

Every day is as beautiful as you choose to make it.

While day dreaming of your perfect physique may seem innocent enough, it’s not a healthy place to linger.

The fact is that you are not “that girl you’d die look like”.

You aren’t “shorter”, “blue eyed”, “skinny”.

By dwelling on the idea that your happiness lives in these things, you are setting yourself up for a long life of discontent.

What if the secret to feeling beautiful was way more obtainable than you thought…?

I know that telling you to love the person that you hate is the last thing you probably want to hear.

And that is the problem.

The truth is my dear, you are so beautiful.

You don’t need to change yourself, you need to change your mirror.

Check out Project Identity for more inspirational content! ❣️

The process of finding yourself

Is there a part of you that feels like you don’t really know who you are?

As I read through old journal entries dated from childhood to adolescence, there is a common theme to them.

“Who am I?”

“What is my identity?”

This confusing sense of identity has been a constant in my life.

I know myself but I just feel like I’m missing something… who am I really?

The moment I “lost myself” is not an incredibly clear one.

My best guess would be the transition into teenage years.

When you are struggling to fit in, you keep trying on different masks until you find one that people like.

I never found that mask but I did find alcohol, which always took the edge off of the excruciating feeling of living in my own skin.

Tired of failing at being accepted for who I was, I stopped trying completely and pursued the next best option- numbing.

When I was 13, I achieved the feeling of being completely numb for the first time.

Alcohol became my best friend.

When I was drinking, I just didn’t care.

I didn’t care that I was ugly.

I didn’t care that nobody liked me.

I didn’t care that life was racing in a blur around me when I was supposed to be growing into a decent young adult.

The negative choices I made in my adolescence are what robbed me of my identity.

I freaking gave up on myself, gave up on finding my mask.

I chose to hide behind the emptiness of covering up my pain with substance.

Now in my adult years feeling a void in establishing my personal foundation.

I missed all of that and so now, that I’m mature enough to go and try on masks again, I’m figuring it out one mistake at a time.

Life is crazy you guys.

I took a risk when I chose to find myself.

Self reflection isn’t the easiest when you have a battered past.

“I want to go back and relive my worst traumas!” Said no one ever.

But those traumas are literal chains that will keep us bound until we face them.

In the process of finding myself, parts of the old me had to die.

The haunting shadows of the scariest memories of my life felt like a reality again for quite some time as I sorted through it all.

I got a lot crazier before I got better.

I’ll never forget my very first session with my anxiety therapist.

I was two months pregnant with my second child and had already gained 20 pounds.

It was the first time I had eaten like a normal person after an Exercise anorexia 8 month spiral.

I had stopped taking 4mg of prescribed Xanax a day cold turkey because I didn’t want to hurt my baby.

Every day was one big panic attack.

She asked me to say aloud,

“I am beautiful.”

And I couldn’t.

Instead anger and tears erupted in defense of my self deprecation.

We spent three years poking and prying, in which time I became completely nuts.

The first phase of finding myself was filled with anger and blame on others.

In that time I irrationally pointed the finger and blew up on my mom multiple times.

I would call her and be freaking out, sometimes even yelling, about something that I was understanding for the first time.

These memories stemmed from my grieving mind fiercely and emotionally believing that I had been done wrong.

It was a long going, deep seeded outburst of emotions I was just coming to terms with for the first time.

I found out that my Mom has Borderline Personality Disorder.

Her symptoms of the mental illness distorted my perception of myself.

I wasn’t actually “the ugliest kid in the entire world”, and if we are being real, I can’t blame her for the fact that I never found myself.

The first part of finding myself required facing some heavy shit so that I could live a better life.

The second part of finding myself was a beautiful blossoming into who I was always supposed to be.

Like a butterfly spreading its wings for the very first time, I broke free from the hell that had been consuming me.

The process of finding yourself is a journey of understanding that you are the only one who can change your situation.

The moment you decide to own responsibility for everything in your life, is the moment you become a butterfly. 🦋

It’s worth the process.

Check out Project Identity for more inspirational content and resources. ❣️

Changing the mental health system

There is a major issue in our world that we are all very aware of yet nobody wants to talk about it.

What am I speaking on?

Mental illness.

Our society is built on the idea of “being perfect”.

Every day we wake up and put on our best faces for the world.

Our social media’s are filled with smiling faces and while I’m not disagreeing that our lives have picture perfect moments, I’m calling bluff on this “perfection” front.

We are human and we are flawed.

Though our reality is a planet full of people who are desperately chasing after perfection.

We are not Jesus.

Instead we have Jesus, to teach us the most raw lessons of forgiveness as we inevitably mess up, time and time again.

And then there’s this thing called life.

Life is not peaches and cream people.

Life is a journey full of ups and downs, heart beats and heart breaks, setbacks and stand ups.

As our broken souls chase this fantasy idea of being “perfect”, it’s understandable that we internalize every failure as a flaw.

Life gets hard and we are trained to pretend that everything is fine, that we are fine.

Mental health isn’t discussed in the way physical health is.

And why?

They are in fact, one in the same.

People are so accepting of any body part breaking down, except our minds.

When our minds are broken, nobody wants to talk about it.

Instead our society is still running on this stigma that views the mentally ill as monsters.

People who are mentally ill are weird, unpredictable, dangerous.

It’s the 21st century and the advancements being made decade by decade are monumental.

Advancements in the mental health system on the other hand have been minimal.

If you are genuinely unaware of how bad this situation is, check out An “insiders” opinion on the mental health system.

This is not an isolated incident.

Our mental health system is a freaking joke you guys.

It’s unacceptable.

For anyone who has never experienced mental illness, I hear you.

It has got to be confusing as hell when somebody “can’t just be happy”.

I get that you don’t understand.

Similar to the everyday battles someone with a physical ailment faces, yet also very different.

Our eyes can see why the man with one arm struggles in climbing the rope, our eyes validate this understanding.

When someone’s mind is under attack there is nothing to validate their behavior- nothing that screams “wow, I can’t imagine how hard it must be getting out of bed every morning”.

In turn this equals stigma and grave misunderstanding of the mentally ill.

When our brains are under attack we are left with a world of broken resources.

Mental illness is a tax on the poor.

If you can’t meet the price tag, genuine help is literally non-existent.

There isn’t a logical plan in place to actually help these people.

What needs to be done to change this?

Who are the mentally ill?

The bus driver, your next door neighbor, your best friends brother, your mom.

It’s not just the horrific individuals who commit mass shootings; the “crazy people” being tied down and shipped to an insane asylum in the movies.

Nobody is exempt from getting a mental illness.

Why are people in crisis being treated like animals?

Why are our publicly available crisis centers releasing people crazier than when they were admitted?

There is obvious room for improvement in the system and we need to do this to help our people.

Being suicidal in today’s world is like needing an emergency appendectomy in a world without doctors.

In my mind there are so many things that we could do differently.

Safe havens shouldn’t feel so cold.

I am coming up on one year of doing this blog.

It has been an insane process of self reflection and growth.

I’ve decided that I am extremely passionate about advocating for the mentally ill- people like myself.

It’s a cause that we are all too familiar with but refuse to constructively change.

It sucks being mentally ill in a world that views mental illness as abnormal.

And I’m ready to start pushing for changes.

Share this post if you want change in the mental health system.

If this post hits 5,000 shares, I will personally draft up a game plan and do everything in my power to get it to Colorado legislature.

Who better to brainstorm a solution than the people who know this battle all too well?

Together we can change the way the world views and treats mental illness.

Change starts here.

Check out my blog Project Identity for more empowering content. 💕💕💕

To the friend that isn’t a friend anymore

I’ve had enough.

While I work on bettering myself, you continue choosing to make all of the wrong choices.

The easy thing and the right thing are hardly ever the same.

You’ve been stringing me along like it’s part of your game.

You were once a friend… that is true.

Not anymore.

Looking back at the childhood memories when we were both on the same page…

The laughter, the love, friends for life without a doubt.

We had our whole lives ahead of us then.

Sadly only one of us would make that life count.

I hate that you just don’t care enough to make a change- I’m tired of rooting for a team that isn’t even playing.

What I want for you is very different than what you want for yourself.

You were once a friend… that is true.

Not anymore.

We are grown now.

Though only one of us has truly grown up.

Sorting out my past mistakes as you refuse to let yours go.

Left standing alone trying to plant a garden with your pile of dirt.

I can’t make you be a garden.

You were once one… that is true.

Not anymore.

So here I stand alive and I’ve decided it’s been overdue.

Friends are the family we choose.

And I’m no longer choosing you.

When you change your mind again and want friends instead of drugs

Remember that I’m praying for you, in the place of hugs.

I won’t be there to wipe your tears.

I won’t be there to share your cheers.

This is the end to the childhood friendship that we could no longer sustain.

Whether you choose to get better or not, gone is where I’ll stay.

I’m living in my garden.

Where you wouldn’t come to play.

The gates have closed, the sunshine glows, I finally can see.

That after all we’ve grown apart, I’m better off just me.

We were once friends… that is true.

Not anymore.

Check out my blog Project Identity for more inspiration! 💕

When toxic relationships turn violent

“They give you heaven and they give you hell.”

After graduating high school I moved to Florida to experience life away from home.

A couple months into this experience I crossed paths with a guy I went to middle school with in Colorado.

Jumping into a relationship, the passion grew like fire.

Dysfunctional was an understatement.

It started as little battles with control.

We fell hard and we fell fast.

I drank myself stupid every single day.

I had a history of picking guys that became obsessive- The red flags disguised in familiarity.

His burning desire to sustain this dysfunctional relationship resulted in a tightened grip on me.

I worked at a kiosk in the mall and he would creep around upstairs, watching me.

Everyone else could see the madness, but I was blind.

The first time he got arrested was because I wanted to go tan.

He hated when I tanned because they wouldn’t let him go in the room with me.

He couldn’t watch me for 15 minutes of the day and it killed him inside.

“YOU ARE MEETING A GUY IN THERE AND CHEATING ON ME!!!”

He roared.

As the grip tightened, I repelled.

This first incident started with my attempt to to sneak out the door and tan.

He came racing after me, jumping in his car, without shoes or a shirt on.

At the stoplight he put his car in park and started banging on my car window screaming.

A bystander called it in.

“SHOOT ME! JUST SHOOT ME!!!”

He yelled at the police officers as they took him into custody.

After being released from jail he moved right back into my apartment.

Looking back I know I should have recognized the signs.

But lust blinds us…

The next time the cops were called came after a dispute on rent money.

He couldn’t hold a job with his full schedule of stalking me and once again I was left to come up with all of it.

I was almost an entire bottle of Burnette’s in, but no amount of alcohol could erase what happened next from my mind.

Enraged and heated, substances amiss, he snapped.

He grabbed my throat and slammed me against the wall.

Using his grip as leverage he began to lift me up.

I went numb.

The next thing I remember is the way the carpet felt on my face.

He was gone, I was shaken and impulsively called the police.

In the minutes it took for the police to arrive though, I had changed my mind.

I wanted to erase the phone call for help and resubmit to this hell.

So I crawled underneath my bed trying to hide.

BOOM BOOM

“POLICE! OPEN UP!!”

It took close to 30 minutes and threats to break down my door before I surrendered.

I was hiding to protect someone who tried to kill me… like how twisted is that?!?!

I’m writing this because I know that someone reading it will resonate with domestic violence.

You guys, toxic relationships DON’T GIVE YOU HEAVEN!!!

It’s the devil distorting every ounce of sense from your mind.

If just days later my roommates wouldn’t have robbed every last thing I had, I possibly would have remained in the relationship.

I know for sure that at times when things got lonely, times before I fell in love again, that I would have gone back for sure.

That is so ridiculously messed up that it’s not even funny.

Thankfully, I made it out of the relationship before it was literally the death of me.

Don’t settle for toxicity in relationships!

Don’t be blind to red flags!

GET OUT BEFORE IT GETS BAD!

You may be in a toxic relationship if your partner is:

  • Overbearing
  • Abnormally controlling
  • Obsessive
  • Stalking
  • Manipulative
  • Verbally abusive
  • Physically abusive

You deserve someone who treats you like the worthy, incredible, person that you are.

And they ARE out there!!!

Not until you escape your prison, lock the door, and throw away the key… will you find them.

If you or somebody you know is in an abusive relationship, feel free to send me an email!

If love to assist you in getting through this! 💕❤️👇

Alexisvw.projectidentity@gmail.com

Or DM me on Instagram at:

alexisvw.projectidentity

Or drop me a comment below! ❤️👇

Check out my blog, Project Identity for more articles on overcoming adversity! 🌤

Through the ears of my eating disorder

My relationship with food will honestly never be normal.

A lifetime without relapse wouldn’t be enough to change the way I hear the words,

“Wow! What a healthy meal you are eating! Good job!!”

Because instead of hearing you compliment me on my discipline I hear,

‘You are fat so you should be eating healthy.’

And from there it spirals into countless unhealthy thoughts.

I knew that many challenges would come with recovery from an eating disorder but I never thought the way that I hear things would be one of them.

Last week I was talking with my best friend who is also in recovery from an eating disorder when this realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

‘I’m not the only one!’

In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if every person who has ever had an eating disorder experiences this to some extent.

Having an eating disorder is like playing a constant game of telephone with yourself.

Your mind is so good at feeding you crap by now that it enjoys manipulating the game.

When living with a brain that is constantly obsessing about food and weight, it can feel like everything is a trigger.

Food is a necessity for survival so you can’t “avoid it” as you can with recovery from most other things.

Multiple times a day EVERY SINGLE DAY you are being tested.

Eating in general can become an anxiety provoking situation entirely.

You are at war with yourself.

And like a sick and twisted death sentence… you must eat to live.

If you have a loved one who has an eating disorder, I’m writing this for you.

Life requires learning other people so that we can all better coexist.

An eating disorder is just another one of those REAL LIFE things to navigate.

Below are some examples of life through the ears of an eating disorder.

Take a moment to intercept this as your loved one.

“Gross! She obviously eats cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!”

‘My worth is determined by a number on a scale…’

“You were too skinny before I’m glad to see you’ve gained some weight.”

‘You are fat now.’

“Exercise is really good for you!”

‘You should be exercising because you’re fat.’

“I’m doing the #%* diet!”

‘You should be on a diet!’

Thank you for taking the time to read this and for doing your part to better coexist!

Check out my blog Project Identity for more! ❤️

Meet Heather, my anxiety therapist

Define “therapy” in a single, brief statement.

Was your definition associated with a positive or negative perspective?

We are all individuals who think, feel, perceive things differently.

For me, therapy is a lifeline.

I never imagined myself as someone who would be so “dysfunctional” that I’d need therapy for the rest of my life.

And I’m not that crazy.

I’ve simply found a therapist whom I trust and whose opinion I value.

The first time I sought anxiety therapy my assigned therapist was a man.

He was nice but we never really established that bond needed to make progress in my trauma saturated background.

Round two I was placed with Heather.

Instantly I felt right at home.

My personality needs a therapist who isn’t tiptoeing around political correctness.

I need someone who is real, raw and genuine.

Someone that I know I can trust with my deepest darkest secrets.

Heather has been that person for me.

As my therapist for a little over two years now, most weeks I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

Therapy is me time.

It’s the only time all week that I get to converse with another adult without a million kids hanging off of me.

I get to sit and unload all of my crap to someone that I don’t have to worry about offending… someone who has nothing but love and good advice to throw back at me.

Therapy is the place where I can navigate my troubled past while taking the necessary steps to improve myself.

A therapist is like that friend who has never done you dirty in the most one-sided relationship ever.

When I feel like bitching about stuff that’s stupid… there she is.

And the stuff that’s not stupid?

There again.

Heather is there to talk about everything.

She’s there and she cares.

Yes, I’d be lying if I said that therapy isn’t hard work at times.

While we’d all like to just pretend that our worst moments never happened…. they did.

If you never deal with your “junk” then it will haunt you in the form of panic attacks eventually.

We can’t run from trauma.

We must be courageous and face it head on- with those badass little friends called therapists in our back pocket.

And even when you’re feeling good, GO TO THERAPY.

Our mental health requires just as much conditioning and maintenance as our physical health.

If you quit your diet and started eating cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner then it wouldn’t be long before your health took a plunge.

All of the crap you put up with on a daily basis?

That is the “cake” of your mental health.

So one last time, define “therapy” in a single, brief statement.

Did your opinion evolve after reading this…?

For me, therapy is simply choosing to not eat cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

If you are struggling with trauma, mental health, or even nothing at all (psh…ha!), I encourage you to find a therapist who is a perfect match for you.

Find your Heather.

Take control of your mental health and reap the rewards of doing so. ❤️

Check out my blog Project Identity for more!

Revisiting the memories I would rather have forgotten

“Maybe you should just stop doing the blog if you aren’t able to make any income from it. It’s just so negative….ha. You are always talking about about weird stuff. People must think that you’re nuts!”

This blog has been an absolute rollercoaster.

Some days I ride the high of feeling like I’m helping people while in turn freeing myself of my “baggage”.

Other days I feel like an idiot and wonder why I’m wasting all this time for nothing, until it spirals so far out of control that I about quit.

“Should I really post that?”

“How are people going to react to this?”

Will anyone react to this…?”

The truth is that it would be SO much easier to just go about my life and pretend like all the years of chaos never even happened.

Easier to pretend that I’ve been this “normal” person my whole life…

Easier to bury my skeletons than to go searching for them in attempt to resolve the trauma that they’ve branded me with.

My blog is called Project Identity because I hope to uncover what I feel are “missing pieces” of my identity through the process of this project.

In terms of adversity, I’ve had a very wide range of it.

Mental health, eating disorders, sexual abuse, dysfunctional families…. YOU NAME IT!

By revisiting these traumas, my goal is to sort through my life and figure out who I really am.

This is NOT in any way an attempt to glorify or normalize the things that I’ve done.

Im not sharing my deepest, darkest secrets with YOU to win sympathy or to place blame on others for things that have happened in my life.

My intention IS to help others by saying,

“this is where I was and look where I am now.”

An attempt to find the answers for survival after adversity– answers that I don’t necessarily believe that I have, yet somehow…. I made it.

And the story isn’t over.

People don’t just overcome something and live happily ever after.

With time, the book you just closed will start revealing itself in your next book.

Growing up in a home with a parent who has Borderline Personality Disorder left me runningself medicating with drugs and alcohol.

The consequences that I received for such behavior opened the door for a newfound battle of control with food (read Tell me to eat? I’ll starve myself).

All of the above rooting me in distorted self worth and eventually leading to rape and suicide attempts.

Recovery from both addictions simultaneously greeted me with crippling anxiety and PTSD- symptoms I now have to face head on, without a crutch.

I don’t believe that God dealt me these cards by mistake though.

Why?

Because I shouldn’t even be here right now.

The moment my life turned around was also the lowest, darkest place I’ve ever been.

My desire to live was gone, but God had other plans.

Just weeks after multiple failed suicide attempts and hospitalizations, my polar opposite walked into my life and we ended up pregnant.

I wasn’t living for me anymore.

A tiny human who would love me forever was too good of an offer to pass up.

God took the life I couldn’t handle anymore and replaced it with one that I could.

He wanted me here because He knows my heart.

My adversity is God’s opportunity.

His opportunity to change more lives.

This is why I do what I do.

I write about my rawest moments because frankly, life is raw.

The world needs more raw people, too.

Check out my blog Project Identity for more!

Rain rain go away

Rain rain go away

The rain just won’t stop pouring

Rain rain go away

You’re so freaking annoying

Rain rain what did you say

I really must be going

Rain rain go away

The forecast calls for storming

Rain rain go away

I need some help please save me

Rain rain go away

I haven’t been behaving

Rain rain go away

God are you there I’m sorry

Rain rain go away

Is this really my story

Rain rain go away

Your light is there it’s glowing

Rain rain go away

By praying, You can show it

Rain rain go away

I need you Lord I know it

Rain rain go away

Together we can beat this

Rain rain go away

You’re all I ever needed

Rain rain go away

The voice of Jesus humming

Rain rain go away

The changes they are coming

Rain rain go away

My God, He’s so forgiving

Rain rain go away

My life is so worth living

Rain rain go away

My God, He’s always near

Rain rain go away

With Him I’ll conquer fear

Rain rain gone away

The sun is finally here

Check out my blog Project Identity ❤️ for more!

Difficulty saying “no”

On a daily basis I land myself in situations that I don’t necessarily want to be in.

How?

Because I don’t know how to just freaking say “NO!

I’m an interesting character.

Anxious, goofy, and don’t forget that lovely “resting bitch face”… 😐

But no matter how “odd” or “different” I may be at first glance, deep down I am one of the kindest people you will ever meet.

I’m an empath.

If you ask me it’s a double edged sword.

While I love being able to offer compassion to those in need, sometimes it can be hard keeping myself afloat when I’m constantly drowning in everyone else’s emotions…

As an empath I feel with people.

Some days I feel solely responsible for ensuring happiness in what feels like all of the world.

It’s not a duty that I was assigned but rather one I must accomplish for my own emotional well-being.

How does this play into everyday life?

In many ways, but today I’m addressing one in particular.

Difficulty saying “no”

Empathic personality or not, I think many of us can agree that saying “no” can be challenging at times.

I just recently learned that apparently, you don’t have to give people a reason of why you can’t do something…?

Wait, what?!

This realization won’t be changing anything over here though…

As refreshing as that seems, it’s not really my style.

I’m more of the, agree to do something because I don’t have balls to be honest then send myself into an anxious frenzy dreading whatever I just signed up for, type of person. 🙄

A couple weeks ago I was getting ready to prepare dinner when the doorbell rang.

Peeking out the window, spotting a woman who appeared to be around my age with a little boy.

My enthusiastic five year old selling us out from pretending to not be home.

It turned out to be our across the street neighbors who we had never met before.

The little boy was going to be starting kindergarten at the same school as Karissa (my daughter) this year.

How crazy that we had no clue about each other until just now!

As excited as I was about all of this the timing couldn’t have been worse.

I’d been talking myself off the ledge all day as my anxiety had been through the roof.

Also in the process of scaling back on an anti-depressant that was causing me to sweat excessively (… TMI sorry! But I have a point I promise!!)

It had been one thing after another that day and I was one wind away from completely losing it.

To make matters even worse I didn’t have a bra on.

My sweet neighbors unaware of when is a good or a bad time for me unless I of course would just verbalize that, right…?

Right.

Just not for ‘Miss unable to express how I really feel’…

Aka ME.

“Do you guys want to come in?”

😑

There I sat bra-less and awkwardly dripping sweat on the couch…

When I’m awkward, I’m really awkward.

Instead of clamming up I start “word-vomiting” to this stranger about every and anything.

I don’t know how long we sat there but it felt like nine days.

The finale was Karissa slamming her finger in the door while they were playing.

She was screaming at the top of her lungs for at least five minutes while we continued visiting with our guests….

Eventually we exchanged numbers and tentatively planned a play date for a couple days later.

‘Man why am I so weird…? 😣’

Spray painting myself with embarrassment and shame.

Internally fighting on how to handle this “situation” if we did in fact, confirm this play date.

She was so nice and the kids had totally hit it off…

The empath in me told myself to just, ‘be a good neighbor and mom’.

But my anxiety is selfish.

Every time I tried reasoning with myself my pulse would soar, skyrocketing until I was so freaked out I continued brainstorming my escape plan again.

The morning of our plans I woke up to a text from her.

Crap.

The plans were no longer tentative.

A panic attack draped over me as I impulsively began typing…

Stopping myself to focus on slowing my heart rate as a tear fell down my cheek.

My first impression was an absolute train wreck…

This girl was cool, pretty and sweet…

There was no way that I could show my face right now, especially with my meds so out of whack.

What if I started sweating again… or rambling AGAIN.

I’d already told this poor woman my entire life story while pouring with sweat and bra-less…

Everything about this situation sucked.

The stress of it all was too much.

I sent the screenshot to my husband as I began venting my frustration:

Be honest?!?

I had no one to be angry at but myself.

Simply saying “no” could have avoided this situation entirely.

He was right…

but I can’t say “no”… remember?!

So I prayed about it and eventually, this is what I wrote….:

Oh my gosh I was actually honest…😳

The moment I hit ‘send’ on that text I felt like 80 pounds was instantly lifted off my back.

It was the strangest thing.

I was honest….and nobody died.

Even better?!

HER RESPONSE! 😍❤️:

This simple display of honesty strengthened our friendship in such a special way:

You guys…

This experience taught me so much!

If you struggle with saying “no”, like I do, I encourage you to give this a try.

Honesty is in fact, the best policy.

Thank you Lord, for teaching me things. ❤️

Check out my blog Project Identity for more great stuff 💕

Love what you’re reading?!

You can support this blog by clicking the link below😃❤️

Xoxo
Buy Me a Coffee at ko-fi.com

Kindness to strangers

While pulling into the gas station half asleep one morning, an “incident” caught my attention.

As a car emerged an empty pump, the car sitting at the pump ahead of it decided to gun it in reverse.

That driver then proceeded to fly out of the car and scream at the other cars windshield with both middle fingers up.

Being the bigger person, the other car sulked into the parking lot waiting for an empty pump.

Ummm excuse me but was it really necessary to be so hateful?!?!

Maybe I’m weird (just kidding I am weird) but I would never go out of my way to be nasty to someone.

My heart broke for the mystery person in that car.

I couldn’t help but wonder how their day was going before this happened…

What if they are going through a hard time right now?

What if this incident was one of many negative things that this person has had to deal with recently?

What if this seemingly small incident turned out to be the straw that broke the camels back?

Empathy for this stranger began to overwhelm me.

As the cranky man drove away, the other car cautiously arrived at a pump on the other side.

I stood fighting with myself on whether or not to intervene.

‘Am I overreacting?!’

Something inside me just couldn’t leave and wonder.

After a couple deep breaths I finally amounted the courage to walk over.

The stranger was a tall male with glasses, mid 30’s probably…. completely expressionless.

“Hi! Umm… I saw what just happened with that crazy guy and I just wanted to tell you that his craziness is NOT a reflection of you. That was nuts and inappropriate… I hope you have a wonderful day!!!”

He looked up at me after pausing for a couple seconds.

“Thank you.”

He muttered softly as a small smile began to form.

That moment was everything.

It was confirmation that I made the right choice in stepping out of my comfort zone.

The second I got back in my car tears of joy started pouring down my cheeks.

It was a small act of kindness that felt like 100 bucks.

Have you ever thought of saying something kind to someone but didn’t?

It could be running over to an old lady who just finished loading her car and offering to put her cart away.

It could be complimenting someone on their dress instead of just thinking it.

It could be messaging your number to a Facebook friend after seeing a post that says “I’m done”.

The Bible tells us to love our neighbor as we love ourself.

For some people {or even most people}, interacting with strangers can be extremely anxiety provoking.

I’m fairly outgoing yet this gas station incident had me sweating.

If everyone made a conscious effort to just be kind then this world could be a much better place.

Changing the world starts with changing ourselves.

You can start by simply being the energy you would like to attract.

Please, never go out of your way to be hurtful to others.

You never know what battles someone may already be fighting.

This week I challenge you to step out of your comfort zone and do/say something positive to a stranger.

One positive interaction could potentially be enough to save a life.

Together we can make a difference ❤️

Check out my blog Project Identity for more 😊

Love what you’re reading?!
Buy Me a Coffee at ko-fi.com

OR
Shopping on Amazon?!

I would super appreciate if you completed your shopping with my referral link!

What you were already planning to purchase will donate up to 10% of your total to this blog 😊👍❤️

Just click “support blog” below!

(*Referral session times out after 24 hours*)

SUPPORT BLOG

When our parents fail at being our parents

The broken child is now an adult.

Finally amounting the courage to seek healing for pain that still affects them to this day.

Disappointed when their parent falls short in mending such wounds.

I’m not sure which hurts worse…

Your mother saying she would choose a boyfriend over you OR her justification when you seek an apology many years later.

I guess the second option just further validated that she in fact, meant what she said all along.

Why can’t our parents just set aside their egos for a minute if it means the well being of their child?

Countless hours have been spent pondering that very question.

Hours spent angry.

Hours spent hurt.

Hours spent beating myself up, trying to figure out what’s so wrong with me that my own mother can’t say sorry for something that brings me pain.

Family members can hurt us way worse than anybody else because they are our blood.

We hold our parents to a different set of standards and expectations.

When they fail to meet those expectations we can’t help but blame ourselves and feel flawed.

“Maybe if I was prettier my mom would love me….”

There is a pit deep in my heart wanting this to just be resolved before one of us dies.

I know that we have had a lot of great times in our relationship…

It’s just,

you broke me

I know that I was a terrible person growing up.

I’m unfathomably sorry for every waking second you had to spend in complete terror because of me.

It genuinely kills me thinking back to the times where I was embarrassed being out in public with you.

I’m sorry for that too.

I am so unbelievably sorry that I’ve corrected myself and am living the admirable life that I am today.

I’ve said I’m sorry and I wish that you could too.

While I don’t believe it is an intentional lack of parenting it creates an emotional barrier until it’s been genuinely dealt with.

We can forgive… we can forget…

But the broken pieces in us will still remain.

In my head it just seems so easy.

Easy to be completely vulnerable for five minutes and say sorry even if it’s uncomfortable.

I’m not looking for a justification of “why” you did it,

I just want to know that you didn’t mean it.

Am I the only person who feels like “I’m sorry but” apologies are sometimes worse than no apology at all?

If you are justifying what you just “apologized” for then are you sure you’re really sorry…?

We unfortunately do not have the power to make people apologize to us.

The pain that comes out to scare us every once in awhile is out of our control also.

If you are reaching for a void from a parent who told you they are “never going to give it to you”…

Take a moment to sit with yourself and grieve.

Physically grieve the pain that this brings you.

A few minutes after you’ve successfully released it ⬇️

Accept the pain for what it is.

And here is the thing,

You are not the problem.

There is nothing wrong with you just because you have a toxic parent.

Deep down our parents love us.

No matter what they’ve said or what they’ve done {or not done} … they love us.

We are all human and have our own ways of living in this world.

Instead of running with the pain try silencing it with the positives.

Be the energy you would like to attract- even when you aren’t receiving it.

Human as we are, it will be a process.

Accept the pain for what it is as it arises in the future.

Don’t prevent yourself from feeling a certain way.

Find a time and a place to step away for a moment and redo the grieving process as needed.

Pray to God and ask to see yourself in His eyes…

It’s incredible I promise.

Remember that your life doesn’t have to end waiting on someone else’s apology.

You are not a reflection of your toxic parent.

Be free from the chains that have you bound.❤️

Your sanity will thank you someday.

Check out my blog for more inspirational goodness ❤️⬇️❤️

www.project-identity.blog

Shopping on Amazon?!

I would super appreciate if you completed your shopping with my referral link!

What you were already planning to purchase will donate up to 10% of your total to this blog 😊👍❤️

Just click “support blog” below!

(*Referral session times out after 24 hours*)

SUPPORT BLOG

Surviving with broken self confidence

“Hi. I was just calling to see if you can tattoo permanent makeup on my face… skin color… to hide my freckles?!?!”

Yes I literally called a tattoo parlor and asked that very question.

Tired of the skin I was born in.

Desperate to change myself.

I used to wear A TON of makeup.

It would take THREE hours of painting my face every morning before being able to walk out the front door.

Never feeling satisfied with the end result.

I don’t know what I was trying to paint…

Just anything other than myself and this terrible face I’d been given.

High school has a weird way of structuring us.

We finish very different people than when we started based off the people and experiences we encounter.

So much time is spent in school.

Time that is crucial in building the foundation of who you are.

If that experience is a negative one, you may find yourself grown and left picking up the pieces.

Graduation was a time of undeniable relief for me.

No longer would I have to walk down those halls and be crucified.

I was free in a world where maybe, just maybe, people would love and accept me.

That freedom did not come without a price tag though.

In the real world,

My lack of self confidence was evident, making me an easy target.

My coping mechanisms were unhealthy, leading me to the wrong people.

(Read Running🍸)

When your core beliefs about yourself have been completely damaged how do you move forward?

For the longest time I was literally unable to repeat the words “I am beautiful”.

Even in the comfort of my own mind… I couldn’t think it.

Part of me felt like it was easier being ugly if everyone knew that I knew that I was ugly.

What does that even mean?!

There is this sense of security in hiding behind “being ugly”.

“At least I’m not one of those in denial ugly people…”

Have you ever done that?

When you have been against yourself for so long you eventually lose sight of how you got there.

I couldn’t say, “I am beautiful”, because I was so completely convinced that I was the farthest thing from beautiful and genuinely unworthy of saying otherwise.

I’d forgotten that my “ugliness” was a belief that had formed in response to my negative experiences in school.

It’s so much easier to take what we are being fed and run with it than to stand up and correct ourselves.

Easier to believe the evil words that people throw at you instead of just loving and accepting yourself for who you are.

As soon as you start believing in yourself nothing else matters though.

My “freeing” moment came when I realized that if I am the only person that is on my side, I sure as heck better make sure I’m an advocate for myself.

The quote, “if you can’t beat them, join them” rings so entirely false in this situation.

Joining them is what we always seem to do…but WHY?!

Why step aside and watch yourself rot…?!

I don’t care how “ugly” you are… you don’t deserve to do that to yourself.

We each have a choice on how our story ends.

The fact is that I am me.

This is who I am.

The only way you can move forward with broken self confidence is by joining the same team as yourself.

Love yourself even when you’ve been given every reason not to.

Accept yourself piece by piece- note that accepting is different than liking.

Make a list of what you are instead of what you wish you were.

By saying, “this is my face” instead of “I hate my freckles”, you are accepting the fact that you were given a face and this is what it is.

When you allow negativity to define you, you are giving up on yourself.

Don’t give up on yourself.

Love yourself.

Encourage yourself.

Strengthen yourself.

At the end of the day, “you” are all you have.

Treat yourself the way you wish other people would treat you. ❤️

Check out my blog for more goodness💝

Project Identity

Love what you’re reading?!

Shopping on Amazon?!

You can support this blog by completing your shopping with my referral link!

Just click one of the images below❤️😊❤️

Have a beautiful day 💝


Freedom from trauma

After experiencing trauma certain aspects of life will never be the same.

For someone who was assaulted in a yellow room that smelled like pine needles… the color yellow, the smell of pine needles, both could potentially be enormous triggers.

Trauma can be anything.

While rape and assault are the most commonly talked about the possibilities are literally endless.

If you’ve had a severely disturbing experience you may be carrying around the burden of trauma.

How do we move forward after experiencing trauma?

Read on to find out ⬇️❤️⬇️

Sometimes the most unlikely memories are the ones that mess us up the most.

The first significant trauma that I can remember was when my childhood “best friend” woke up one day and decided she didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.

I never even knew how badly that experience affected me until just recently…

My brain had literally convinced itself over time that we just grew apart.

Until last summer when my family made a trip back to my childhood vacation spot- Grand Lake, Colorado.

Our previous visit there was over fourteen years before.

The “best friend” I just mentioned came along with us on that last year.

Casually talking to my mom about memories from this beautiful place as we grabbed an ice cream cone at a familiar shop.

“I remember when we got back and Tori wouldn’t talk to you at all. She was completely ignoring you.”

No…I didn’t remember that actually…

As ice cream dropped on my shirt I responded,

“What are you talking about?!?!”

With the transition into middle school we just grew apart.

Or so I thought…

“I came up to her after volleyball practice and her dad ran up and yelled at me to stay away from her.”

Suddenly this memory, which my brain would have clearly rather forgotten, was piecing itself together.

The sounds…the smells….all of it came crashing down on me.

The distant memory suddenly felt like it was yesterday.

One minute I was just a kid without a thing to worry about… the next I’m left with only questions about people… questions about the world.

How could I have possibly forgotten that?!?!

I’d like to introduce you to the human brain.

Capable of so many things… including shielding us from trauma.

It’s not uncommon to completely blackout a traumatic experience in fact.

That is our brains way of “protecting” us.

I don’t remember what happened in the following days or weeks but I do remember that life got really hard after being abandoned.

Moving forward I had a difficult time making friends.

People were so mean.

From there it was what seemed like an everlasting downward spiral.

I guess it’s easier telling people that you “grew apart” from someone than saying “my best friend didn’t want me anymore and she never told me why”…

While this memory was immediately available to me it changed over time like a game of telephone.

Regardless, the awareness of my trauma would be a major step in my healing.

Life after trauma 💔➡️❤️

A twelve year old is blindsided by her best friend, abandoned without an explanation.

If you were the twelve year old, what beliefs do you think you would form about yourself and others as a result of that situation?

  1. People will leave me without reason.
  2. People I trust are going to hurt me.
  3. I am not in control.
  4. I am unwanted.
  5. There is something wrong with me.

Trauma almost always comes tied with a negative core belief(s).

You are no longer physically reaping the pain of the traumatic event… instead the pain you carry is the baggage of the negative belief this trauma gave you.

Trauma is the event.

Negative belief is the result.

My “best friend” left me when I was 12.

I’m almost 27 now.

“Learning” this new information about my childhood filled in a lot of the puzzle pieces that I thought had been lost forever.

In the years following the abandonment, I’d turn to alcohol and drugs to try and fill the void that my friend left in me.

Like dominos, I would face trauma.

Eventually leading to “textbook traumas”, assault and rape.

As ridiculous as this sounds, sometimes I feel like the abandonment was the worst trauma of them all.

Maybe if it had happened a couple years later….after I’d already successfully finished transitioning into a young woman…. maybe it wouldn’t have been so catastrophic.

But the way it all ended up playing out was the perfect combination to completely damage me.

It is so important to deal with our traumas.

Until you deal with them they will ruin you.

There is a sense of peace in the clarity I have now of why I am the way I am.

My marriage has grown in this knowledge as well since my husband is aware and involved in this reconditioning process.

While it will be a long road of re-training my brain and my beliefs about myself, at least I’m on the right road.

Below are the steps I’ve taken to experience freedom from trauma⬇️❤️⬇️

1) Identify the trauma.

This is the experience that negatively affected you. The “what”.

2) Identify the negative belief(s).

WRITE THEM DOWN- they are much easier to correct that way!

3) Correct the negative belief(s).

FACT CHECK YOURSELF!

Trauma leaves us with unrealistic beliefs about ourselves.

Often times our negative beliefs are exaggerated.

See below how I corrected mine from the example above.

⬇️❤️⬇️

Negative beliefs

  1. People will leave me without reason.
  2. People I trust are going to hurt me.
  3. I am not in control.
  4. I am unwanted.
  5. There is something wrong with me.

Corrected statements

  1. SOME People willmay leave me without reason.
  2. People I trust are going tocould hurt me.
  3. I am not in control OF OTHER PEOPLE.
  4. I am not wanted by ONE person.
  5. There is something wrong with me. I am uniquely me.

It’s literally crazy how changing a couple of words can completely alter the quality of your life.

I totally get that sometimes you feel too broken to accept the fact that it’s not your fault that this happened to you.

This is a process and as any process it will have ups and downs.

I’m definitely more sensitive than the average person when it comes to feeling like people may abandon me.

That sensitivity is a whole lot better than the years I spent convinced that everyone would leave me though.

Invest in yourself and your well being.

Be courageous and tackle your traumas.

I promise that there can be freedom after trauma.❤️

Check out my blog for more inspirational goodness⬇️❤️⬇️

Project Identity

Love what you’re reading?!

Shopping on Amazon?!

You can support this blog by completing your shopping with my referral link!

Just click one of the images below❤️👇❤️

Have a beautiful day 💝


Why everyone should do “family breakfast” on Sundays

Happy Thursday everybody!

I hope you’ve all been enjoying your week!

❤️😊❤️

You guys,

I have to tell you about this thing my family does…

it’s amazing!!!

Actually it’s somewhat of a new tradition for us BUT after the very first one… we were hooked!

Family breakfast

So what is family breakfast?

Just as simple as it sounds actually!

Family ➕ breakfast = family breakfast

One day my five year old was sitting at the table eating breakfast and as I ran by to shovel another scoop of cereal down my throat she said,

“Mommy are you eating breakfast with me?”

I’m sorry…what!?

You mean actually sit my butt on a chair while I eat instead of running around like a crazy person trying to get stuff done?!

It felt pretty absurd at first to be completely honest.

If I’m not running around, how will everything get done???

Skeptically lowering myself into a chair.

That morning was one of the best mornings I’d had in a long time.

❤️

When the next Sunday rolled around there I was again… eating my breakfast sitting down.

This time we invited Daddy and baby sister to join us!

Andddd… the rest is history!

Now EVERY Sunday we look forward to “family breakfast”.

We attend a Saturday evening church service, so “snazzing” up our favorite breakfast foods after sleeping in on Sunday morning is what we call “family breakfast”.

Bacon, eggs, hash browns, fruit, COFFEE, plus a sweet entree are what our Sunday mornings entail.

Wonder no more what to do with the 20 butter braids taking up all of your freezer room.

My mouth is watering as I write this.

I’m a sucker for breakfast food you guys…

Now I get it to eat the best of them once a week!

Yes please!!!

Not convinced yet?

Here’s a little more:

  • Family breakfast is the one time a week when I get to start the day with my entire family all sitting down together.

Many of us do family dinner but not family breakfast.

It’s a different type of bonding.

In the morning we are rested and our emotional capacity is full.

Mornings are the only time all day that I function with a “normal” level of anxiety.

It’s the only time I’m emotionally able to give my full self to my family.

There is literally nothing quite like family breakfast.❤️

  • It’s a great meeting place to discuss upcoming plans for the week.

Soccer? Doctors appointments? No school on Friday?

What is on the schedule for the upcoming week?

Family breakfast gets everyone on the same page 👍❤️👍

  • We learn more about each other every single week.

We have one of those question card games that we received in a chick-fil-a happy meal.

Questions are like, “If you could go anywhere where would you go”.

It’s a great conversation starter and you are always learning new things about each other!

  • It includes my favorite foods and my favorite people.

Breakfast fans rejoice! 🙌

I do in fact, each bacon once a week…. 🥓🥓🥓😳

  • Family breakfast opens the door for more structured family activities!

Last Sunday during family breakfast my five year old goes,

“We should go with Daddy to his haircut then go to the park after!”

Ummmmmm…

How will the house get cleaned?!

News flash…

The weekend is only TWO DAYS.

I need to stop treating Sundays like Mondays!

Anyone else guilty of that?!

I was very skeptical at first but family breakfast turned into family DAY and…

We had a freaking blast.

So be it if my Monday workload just doubled.

Monday’s are Monday’s.

The kids had an absolute blast and I must admit I enjoyed the dose of vitamin D as well.

  • If your Sunday morning schedule is hectic👇

Do family breakfast in the way it works for you.

Bagels and coffee after church?!

Conversation instead of music in the car while enjoying a snack on the way to stop one of twenty for the day?

Family breakfast is whatever you make it.

  • If Sunday is just a plain old terrible day for you👇

Choose the day that works for you!

You need to have family breakfast once a week I’m seriously telling you…

  • Not a breakfast person? 👇

First off I’m not sure if we can be friends…. 😳 just kidding!

But breakfast is good for you.

DO FAMILY BREAKFAST!

  • No family? 👇

Have family breakfast with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

Invite Betty next door over for coffee and bagels…

I promise you after the first few times it won’t feel so awkward.

You may even decide you like Betty so much you want her at family everything.

You and your dog?

Fine!

If that’s literally all you can manage then do it!

Just remember to put away your cell phone in a safe place 👌

Spike needs your undivided attention!

Family breakfast is all about starting your day with intentionality.

I’ve seen the benefits of this and they keep on coming.

So please, try family breakfast this weekend.

Don’t forget to leave me a comment and let me know how much you loved it ❤️

Normal I am not!

How did I turn into this high energy family breakfast enthusiast?

Probably not how you’re thinking…

Check out my blog for inspirational goodness!

👇❤️😊❤️👇

Project Identity

An inspirational blog about overcoming adversity.

Mental health. Addiction. Eating disorders. Broken homes. Trauma. HOPE! ❤️

Love what you’re reading?!

Shopping on Amazon?!

You can support this blog by completing your shopping with my referral link!

Just click one of the images below❤️👇❤️

Have a beautiful day 💝


Running

Burnette’s pink lemonade vodka was my drug of choice.

My painkiller.

Escaping is exhilarating…

So we run.

We escape.

The first time I got drunk I experienced feeling accepted for the first time in a long time.

Things got really hard when I started middle school.

Everybody hated me and I could never figure out why.

Constantly seeking out “imperfections” to correct so people would just be nice to me.

Alcohol and drugs filled that void when I couldn’t fill it myself.

So I chased it.

Associating my behavior with “just being a teenager”.

Normal teenagers don’t get DUI’s or spend months of their senior year in treatment though…

The emotional freedom I experienced while under the influence quickly developed into a need.

I needed to be accepted.

I couldn’t take another day, another minute, of this life in full strength.

It was miserable.

Draining.

Impossible.

“Running” became an obsession.

The deep seeded need to feel loved and accepted would eventually lead me to drugs and just about anything I could get my hands on.

Marijuana, cocaine, ecstasy.

All were used regularly by the age of 16.

I always told myself that meth and heroin were where I’d draw the line because they were “crackhead drugs”.

While I never tried either of them, I’m sure if the opportunity would have ever presented itself, I would have snagged it in an instant.

The escape was worth any consequence at that time.

I remember an instance when I couldn’t get anything but was so desperate to be numb that I attempted getting high by smoking oregano.

In case you were wondering, it didn’t work.

Today I’m happily clean and sober!

Read more on how I got here by clicking the link below ⬇️❤️😊❤️⬇️

My untraditional fairy tale❤️

Today I’m left only with the debris of my bad choices.

My PTSD is through the roof.

Traumatized by the person that I used to be.

What could I have done differently to avoid all of this?

Operating properly today because of preference.

I prefer calm.

I prefer safe.

But I can’t say that the “safety net” I have today applied to my 14 year old self.

I didn’t feel safe then.

Middle and high school were a living hell for me.

Every day waking up with a pit in my stomach knowing I’d have to deal with people and the evil that they threw at me.

That pain was only temporary and I am safe now.

While it may have seemed like too long to hang on at times… I survived.

I don’t think I would enjoy life the way I do today if I hadn’t been through what I’ve been through.

If you’re running on empty right now because of bullying or addiction,

Please take the following letter to heart.

…This could be you too.❤️

Dear 14 year old self-

Things will be okay.

Eventually.

They are going to get worse before they get better.

A lot worse.

Hang on.

Remember that you control how this story ends.

Never rely on other people for happiness.

Learn to love yourself and one day you will have the world in your hands.

A beautiful family.

A husband who loves you.

Invaluable knowledge and strength.

A story that could potentially change lives.

❤️

This situation is temporary.

Don’t fight it!

Embrace it to the best of your ability.

Know that it’s worth the wait.

The ones who are ripping you to shreds will go through their own loneliness while you prosper.

Forgive them.

Pray for them.

One day you may even help them.

Two wrongs never make a right.

Be the energy you would like to attract even in the times you aren’t seeing results.

God won’t ever give you more than you can handle.

These years are a “boot camp” for the path you will lead someday.

As terrible as this very moment feels right now, it will all be worth it.

Your adversity is God’s opportunity 🌪🌪🌪🌈

The harder the training, the greater the “role” in God’s plan.

Unfortunately for now, you’ll have to wait it out.

Don’t give up.

There is a Man upstairs watching over you.

I love you.

Hang in there❤️

What is God training YOU for?!

Channel your adversity❤️

Follow my blog for more! 😊❤️😊

Project Identity

Shopping at Amazon?

Support this blog by using my link to complete your shopping❤️

Just click one of the images below!

See you soon 😊❤️😊


The songs we sing ourselves

For me,

Songs are pieces of advice.

Invaluable wisdoms being shared.

The rhythmic displays of art typically offer the listener some kind of a message.

Let’s all take a second to individually address the songs we sing ourselves on a daily basis.

  • What type of song do you find yourself singing most often?
  • Are you a “glass half full” or a “glass half empty” type of person?
  • How do you handle adversity?
  • Where does “self love” rank in your values?
  • Do you spend a lot of time beating yourself down? Worrying? Living in regret?

Try Amazon Music Unlimited Free Trial

The purpose of this personal “inventory” taking is not to fault you for your wrongs.

By stepping back and assessing our “wins” and our “losses” , we learn to give ourselves what’s necessary to keep us running smoothly.

My song this morning,

Today is another day filled with things simply out of my control.

I will choose to sing myself loving songs of encouragement as needed.

Songs filled with everything I need in the present moment to work with myself instead of against myself.

By committing to singing myself the proper songs everyday and as needed,

I will begin realizing that I do in fact, have an ally,

and that person is myself.

Song

The WordPress word of the day.

Click the link below to find out how YOU can participate❤️

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2018/04/15/song/

Try Amazon Prime 30-Day Free Trial

Bullying is everywhere

Bullying consumed so many years of my life.

Beaten down by the harshness of this at times, ruthless society.

One minute I was 12, enjoying hours in the lake on a partially deflated water trampoline with my best friend.

The next I’m 13 and my best friend just woke up one day and didn’t want me anymore.

I was never given an explanation.

After that things got really bad for me.

Below are some pictures of myself in different stages of middle/high school.

Each photo is accompanied by an actual comment said to me in that time frame.

Bullying is everywhere

“You are ugly”

“You are weird”

“You are too skinny”

“You wear too much makeup”

“You should just kill yourself”

Statements cemented into me.

Cruel comments, shaping my core beliefs about myself.

Middle and high school are HARD!

If you are not “perfect”, people will go out of their way to destroy you.

Dear victims of bullying,

You are not ugly.

You are not fat.

You are beautifully, uniquely, you.

There is nothing wrong with you.

In fact,

As someone who has been in your shoes…

I promise you that this situation is temporary.

I know years of battery can seem like TOO much sometimes.

There will be days when you feel like you just can’t do it anymore.

HOLD ON.

People CARE about you.

Things may get worse before they get better

Remain strong.

The Lord won’t give you more than you can handle.

Come to Him in your times of weakness.

Remember that it can’t rain forever.

“I am free from the chains that once bound me”

Life is in color again.

The hurtful people from my past are nothing more than my past.

Senseless words will not define me.

In the times when life feels like “too much”,

Remind yourself,

“The bigger the storm, the brighter the rainbow”

Don’t miss witnessing your rainbow

I promise you it’s worth the wait ❤️

#SuicidePrevention #Truth #Encouragement #Positivity #Hope


Meet Nikki, my eating disorder.

I’ll never forget the day I was first introduced to Nikki.

My best friend Brittany was over recapping the latest obstacles with her eating disorder.

“I will be like, ‘eat breakfast so you have energy for the day’ then Nikki will be like ‘don’t do it you’re fat!'”

Wait rewind a second!

Who is Nikki?!

“Nikki” is the name Brittany uses to address her eating disorder.

Meeting “Nikki” was a pivotal moment in my recovery because it was the first time I ever genuinely understood that my eating disorder isn’t ME.

This post highlights some of the challenges those with eating disorders face, shared through the voice of “Nikki”.

Thanks for your help in creating this Britt❤️

*The following photos are actual photos of myself while active in my eating disorder*

Nikki

I am the plane.
Nikki is the pilot.

Happily accepting a piece of chocolate with my coworkers one afternoon, I was rudely interrupted by Nikki.

“Well you already screwed up for the day. You might as well just eat whatever you want now”, snickers Nikki.

I am the statue.

Nikki is the sculptor.

Wiping my hands after finishing dinner that evening Nikki’s smooth, conniving voice waits eagerly to greet me.

“YOU ARE FAT! YOU CAN’T BE EATING LIKE THAT WITHOUT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT!” Hisses Nikki, in anticipated delight.

Suddenly in complete panic and clothed with guilt and shame I run to the bathroom to purge.

As the food comes out of my body I am immediately filled with satisfaction.

The rush instantly numbs any pain I’m feeling like a drug.

I am the paper.

Nikki is the pencil.

“You are so huge! Losing weight will make you happier, more desirable, and you will actually feel good about yourself!”, says Nikki.

Her voice echoing in my head repeatedly, consuming me.

I will do whatever I have to do to lose the weight.

I am the TV.

Nikki is the remote.

With Nikki, life revolves around avoiding food while simultaneously thinking about it constantly.

(*Loses 10 pounds*)

“Five more pounds! You are still fat!”, shouts Nikki.

“I am powerless”, says myself.

“You are IN CONTROL of what goes in your body and what comes out of it”, solicits Nikki.

And at times, with the help of this thing called “life”, her offer just seems too good to pass up.

Gazing at my 60 pound heavier “twin” in the mirror, Nikki coating the lenses on my eyes.

The truth is that I believe I am in control but it’s all a lie.

Everything Nikki says is a lie.

“She’s like a manipulative ‘friend’ who tells me that having control over food will bring me peace with everything in life.”

Nikki is that irrational voice in your head telling you that food is control.

Nikki is that itch you can never seem to scratch.

Nikki is someone’s insensitive comment playing over and over in your head like a broken record.

Nikki lives closer than we may think in people of all different shapes and sizes.

Just because someone isn’t a toothpick doesn’t mean they couldn’t have an eating disorder.

Just because someone IS a toothpick doesn’t mean they DO have an eating disorder.

Be sensitive to others in the things you say.

You never know who could be battling a “Nikki”.

If you personally are battling an eating disorder, my advice to you would be to name your Nikki.

Fred? Tom? Regina? Patty?

Choose whatever feels right to YOU!

The important thing is simply establishing your individual identity apart from your eating disorder.

Contrary to what Nikki would like you to believe, remaining “inactive” with your eating disorder is when you possess the most control of all.

Take a second to imagine the freedom of your own mind running without Nikki.

How powerful is the one who says “not today Nikki”?

How much strength does it take to regain control of YOUR OWN MIND by silencing the crap that Nikki feeds it?

That control could be entirely yours if you don’t allow “Nikki” to dictate you anymore.

I KNOW that all of this is easier said than done.

Just because you’ve decided enough is enough doesn’t mean Nikki moves away and you never hear from her anymore.

Nikki is that toxic parent that you stay in contact with because they are your blood.

Work on re-establishing the things that make you, “you”.

If you can’t get rid of Nikki then instead you must learn to work around her.

Rebuild what “achievement” stands for to you.

Remember that,

Nikki is NOT on your side

For me I’ve learned that Nikki won’t stop pestering me until I silence the voice of Nikki with the voice of God.

Below is a current photo of me.

I am alive.

I am strong.

I am in control.

I am beautiful.

And so are YOU!

“Not today Nikki!”

Follow my blog for more inspirational goodness.

⬇️❤️⬇️

Project Identity




#Inspiration #LoveYourself #Happiness #Control #EatingDisorder #Life #Love #Truth #Strength #Good #Recovery

Letter to Jesus

The Lord is my strength

His undeniable love for me fills every void I ever needed.

It’s a love that’s so rich and genuine. Passionate. Raw.

In His eyes I am everything I’d ever dreamed of being and more.

He shares invaluable insight with me. He shows me who I am beneath my shattered confidence. It’s incredible, one of a kind. Available any day or time.

Dear Jesus,

Thank you for loving me

For encouraging me

Even in the times that I fail at being perfect

You love me even though I am flawed

Thank you for understanding me

And for never judging me

With You I can do anything

I love you