Struggling to Find Beauty

         We hear it all the time don’t we? The fact that our beauty as women is being manipulated and distorted every day by the images we see on social media, on the fronts of magazine covers, or on the frontlines of protest. We are conflicted daily on what exactly we should anchor our ideals of beauty to.

         Personally, for me I’ve always struggle with this, most of my friends have struggle with this, and most of the women I know struggle with this. We anchor our worth to our families, our friends, our physical appearance, or our mental capacity. And when we are confronted with someone who is prettier than ourselves or smarter than ourselves, or more put together than ourselves, we often resort to self-loathing, women bashing, or both. At least I do.

         Since early on I can remember this vicious cycle but since my Freshman year of college though I have tried to channel both my self loathing or others bashing into self improvement. Even though as I sought to be better disciplined or more educated or prettier I did it out of selfish intent. Ah the human experience. Truly though I was faced with this bigger question of Why that loomed over me. Why do any of it? What was my motivation? Most of the time my answers were superficial and often related back to some societal conviction that I had that told me I wasn’t good enough. Even though it’s not society’s problem or doing that tells me I’m not good enough. Many of the magazines that tell us who to be are around because we buy into it. Celebrities with photo-shopped bodies are still around because we fund them and the magazine’s ability to pay for photo shopping. We fuel the top of the pyramid that floods over onto our social groups. Then girls think it’s okay to point out other’s flaws. Boys think it’s okay to objectify women. And so on. However the problem falls on me. Amanda Nicole Larson thinks Amanda Nicole Larson is not-worthy and Amanda Nicole Larson finds her beauty in fleeting people and things.

         As a God-fearing women though I am taught in verses like Song of Solomon 4:7 that I am “altogether beautiful”. There are verses sprinkled throughout the bible that talks about God’s deep love not only for me but all of those who He calls His. Yet I struggle daily to remind myself that I am beautiful not of my own doing but the work that Christ does in me. I am a beautiful new creation because of what Christ does in me.

         So today I write this blog to bid to you to join me on this journey to find beauty in not what lays in the mirror or what shows up on a test score or for some of you how your children act towards you in the grocery store but what God has in store for you.

XOXO

Amanda

The Sun's Going to Rise

The Sun’s Going to Rise

            I laid on the bed trying to steady my heart from beating out of its cage. I sympathized with it. I too was once caged, caged inside the lying words spewed over me like the hot rays. I gripped my phone with a photo on its screen. The sun beating on our backs both my future and my past collided the way her friendship collided with my face.

            She held the key to the cage. Her words became the unleashing of my passion for life. Passion that had been told to sit down and shut up; passion that coward in the corner. I overlooked the balcony onto my new life. New friends. New dreams. A new sun that had been promised after a long night.

            Her hands ran through my hair, she rattled on about how crazy the night had been. It was a dangerous cocktail of drunkenness and love and the relinquishment of teenage dreams. Adulthood collided like a gaseous explosion tormenting us with our childhood fears. I too was tormented by such fears. Fears of loneliness were met in the bitter night as I gripped my bed anticipating what it would feel like to fall out of this nightmare called life. The fear of not being loved met my face like a cold wet snowflake in the middle of September, rare and unknowing, leaving you confused and longing for the sun that’s no where to be found.  

            My mind drifted back to the poolside where we laid before. Sand sunk in between my toes. I watched as the golden lightening raged on the court. She was angry, angry of lack of attention and insecurities that plagued her soul. It came out in the way she struck little boys with her charm and with her lips. She burnt down steel homes and replaced them with hay huts. She threw her desires down into swirling water. She laid her pride down low. I sunk to the floor the weight of carrying the lightening became too baring but thunder followed. He crashed into me begging for sanity. He roared with laughter mocking his own position. I crawled into corner praying the storm would not find me. He grasped onto me. I covered my head grasping for shelter. She saved me. She carried the thunder on her back even after he rattled in her ears to loudly to bear. He protested with loud bangs and explosion. He grumbled out profanity and pushed against the wind. His drunkenness had taken light fun and destroyed it in a swoop.

            My phone buzzed in my hand the reminder of my normalcy. I rushed past the calming of thunder and lightening and into rain. He stood there a big cloud. He reminded me of an old cloud. The sort of cloud that brought loneliness and worthlessness into my life like a flood. He pushed against me and whispered into my ear. The words fell over my body as the wind does when you stand on the edge of the ocean. I wanted so bad to splash around in his puddles and allow him to fall over me. I was the sand and he was the tide engulfing me and pulling me in. I fought back hard and furiously. I pushed back. He pulled harder. My mind rushed in a whirlpool of confusion. My passions created a hurricane inside my soul. I closed my eyes as I fumbled for safety.

            I remember the sun as it lit my face, warm and safe. My life may be a storm for a night but it wasn’t a storm day after day any more. Even in the storm of night I anticipated the sun rising over the horizon. The intermingling of life’s desires burning red into orange’s happiness and blue’s confidence. I arose seeking the cheerfulness the sunrise’s yellow brought and the friendship that was promised in the hues of pink. She was the mark of the rising sun, the exchange of the depression of night for the joy of the day. Though her herself was not the force that propelled me into a fresh day but rather the rays gripping me and fighting for me though I laid there unwilling and unknowing of the change.

            She brushed her fingers through my hair. Her laugh rang throughout the night in disbelief of the storm that was that night. Twenty years plagued by storms and sunrises I never saw a sunrises as warming as her. Her strength picked me up and carried me through the storm with the simple words: I love you best friend.

**** I wrote this for my final piece in Creative Writing*****

I Wanted To Die... You Could See It in My Eyes

I had kept it a secret for a while. The most anyone knew was my reaction from a talk with a family member that day. In fact I can’t tell you who I had told first in a serious matter. I had always joked around about it. Those who were close to me I am sure could sense my pain but didn’t know what to do but they never knew it ran this deep.

There are many things I remember from that experience but I’ll start at the beginning.

It was a Sunday. It was raining outside but the rain had ended by the time I left my Aunt’s house. I cried all the way home. I had finally hit that point in my life where all the frustration and brokenness in my life had met. I don’t think it’s wrong for Christians to feel this way. I think throughout the bible God allows His people to be broken so they will lean more into Him. I cried though, all the way home. I reached this bridge however and the thoughts ran ramped through my mind. I imagined running my car into the bridge side or even just driving off the bridge. I imagined hitting the tree but more importantly in that moment I imagined my family. I didn’t imagine their heartache for losing their daughter, sister, niece, cousin or granddaughter, I imagined the hassle it would be to deal with my death. I imagined my parents being angry for having to replace their only car that I would have wrecked. I imagined the financial hit my parents would take for the funeral. I imagined the embarrassment my family would face explaining to people why I took my life.  The decision for me was nonchalant, like a checkless of pros and cons. I drove home though.

When I arrived home I cried to my mom. I didn’t mention how her only daughter almost ended her life but I told her of all the other things that I had faced that day. It was another weekend for me. Another weekend of discussing the same old hurt that I was feeling. Another weekend of my depression getting the best of me. Another weekend. 

As time went on and most everyone forgot that day happened to me, that day was ever prevalent in my mind. I begin to fake it better. I began to be sarcastic about my depression. I begin to joke about those who had in a nonchalant manner encouraged me down that path with their hurtful words and actions towards me. However when I was alone I’d sit there and imagine what it would feel like to that person who would find my dead body.

A few months ago the secret I held in my heart got blurted out. I do believe to some degree it shocked my parents to hear those words but to another degree I am sure they had worried about it for a while. It came to the point though where I had to explain it to my extended family. For once the words didn’t come out in a fit of anger or in my sarcasm. The words came out in a genuine need for understanding.

I wanted to die.

My body revolted against me. I shook and sobbed. It probably was the first time I just let go. Every hurt, every frustration, every damaging word spoken and negative action taken against me released from my body at that moment. In that moment though I was freed.

It’s hard to place myself back there. It’s hard to every think of the girl now who laughs way too much and who finds the joy in standing in the pouring rain was ever drowned by the same rain.

My life is now filled with gratitude from those around me. There are few people who truly stuck by me through it all. I realize that my action were awful at times, that I pushed certain people away with my words and actions. Many chose to leave, few stayed.

I’m not bitter. I think that I could easily hate those who hurt me and blame them. My actions were still chosen by me. Every opposition I felt was a growing opportunity. That’s why I am finally breaking the silence after a year. I don’t know where you are in your life at this moment. If you are depressed though, as cliché as it sounds, it get’s better.

James writes in James (Obviously, haha) that BLESSED is the man/woman who is steadfast under trials, for he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love Him. [James 1:12].

 Lean into Christ, that doesn’t mean that you’ll instantly feel better cause trust me it took months for me to get to a point where my happy moments out weighed my sad moments. It was a continual process of being broken and being healed, broken and healed. Rest though in the promise held 2 Corinthians 1:4 Who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

Also seek guidance and mentorship. One of the best things I have done in my years as a Christian is to find someone who will mentor me. She is able to recognize things in me and walk me through passages in the bible. One of the main issues I had due to my depression is my identity in Christ and she was able to guide me through bible verses to help me recognize my identity.

Life get’s better. Life is about hilltops and valleys. There are lessons to be learned on both. I know the warning signs and situations that could easily trigger me back into those bad days. I try to be grateful for all those in my life. I try to help those who may be going through similar situations.

The pictures at the beginning of the blog are taken at two separate times. The one on top was taken right before that day on the bridge and the second one was taken a few weeks ago. I have no clue, maybe it's just me but if I strum through my photos I can clearly see into my heart in these photos through my eyes. My eyes tell a story of my journey and where I am at the specific moment. I am grateful that my eyes sparkle and shine. That my heart is filled with joy and that my eyes reflect that. 

-Amanda