I'm Don't Have an Eating Disorder... I just Skipped Lunch

Our society sometimes seem to have a paranoia about eating disorders. Be on the thin side, skip one meal, and you find yourself accused of being anorexic. And I'm very grateful for the effort to bring eating disorders and image issues to the fighting forefront. It's helped save a lot of people.

But there's those others of us.... that don't dare admit we have issues for fear of a label. I mean we're the good girls, right? We're dependable and great friends and respectful kids and never skip Sunday school.... Or maybe we don't even know we have an issue because we associate disorders with being able to see every rib and being pale and making yourself throw up. Or maybe we are that girl and we just don't know it.

However it is, let's admit it. Even if we don't have a disorder so to speak, our looks still get to us. Despite all our preaching otherwise about inward beauty and how God looks on the inside, let's face it: our looks get to us. 

Call us stupid; we'll hit you with our books. Call us lazy; we'll hit you with a wet dish. Call us bad cooks; we'll put a pie in your face. But our looks.... well we will slap you. But then we'll look in the mirror and believe every word of it whether we ever admit to or not. Our confidence is so weak in that area. Most of the time it's the first confidence to go under trauma. It's an established fact that under stress people lose confidence as they're faced with impossible choices and unexpected losses.

And let's face it - something about stress messes with the majority of girls' conception of self-image. Maybe there was a big test and you skipped a few meals out of adrenaline and cramming. Or maybe there was a family issue and you couldn't eat. Then from sheer necessity it falls into an everyday habit. And then you call yourself "fat" or "in need of shedding a few pounds" or maybe you actually like your body for once.... and it becomes a choice. Something you barely think about and yet a choice nevertheless. 

Let me illustrate. Confession time. *deep breath* Life was coming together. I was growing up. It was all good. And then it couldn't have wrecked worse if life had been a train and gone crashing against a rock wall. The situations hit at the core of who I thought I was. Suffice it to say there were multiple aspects of life falling apart and specifics are still too painful to talk about except around midnight with a close family member. But I didn't have time to process or grieve or come up with plan Z.  Adding to the stress, I had a nightmare of a professor. From a straight A student to trying to barely cling to an A-. Nothing was right. If I went by the syllabus he didn't like it. If I didn't go by the syllabus he didn't like it. I was too vague; I was too specific. I gave too much summary; I didn't give enough summary. It came time to file for graduation and I didn't have a clue what came next. What I thought I'd always do I decided I could not bring myself to. What I really wanted looked impossible. What I thought I'd always wanted I wasn't enthusiastic about. But hey, that's just life. Anyone can handle that.  Except life had just spiraled dreadfully out of control and I didn't have times to deal with it for reading Romantic Era poetry and cramming for finals so we wouldn't have to pay the thousands of dollars college enrollment fee again.

So I stopped eating.

I didn't have time so I skipped a meal here or there.
I was busy. I forgot to eat.

And then when tragedy hit, I didn't have time to deal with pain. But you have to grieve somehow. If you don't, your body will do it for you. My body decided to start gagging every time it tried to eat. Even pork chops, my favorite meal. I tried force feeding. It didn't work. Like I said, if you don't take the time to cry your body will do it for you.

Needless to say the various situations had shaken me to a core. Beforehand I'd been growing in confidence as one thing after another fell into place. Not arrogant. Just sure of myself in a quiet sort of way, secure in the feeling that I could see God working one step at a time. College was scary. College courses kept being passed. College social life was like nothing I'd ever experienced. God blessed me with many friends. Travel had always been daunting. I got to fly. But as graduation ticked closer and closer without a clear plan and my inability to really think straight my confidence plummeted. Like most girls I'd always criticized my own looks. Not anything major. I just had always picked on this or that.

And then one day I happened to catch a glance at myself in the mirror. I was always too busy to look on a daily basis and it was really a fluke that I'd caught a glimpse then.

What I saw made me look again.

For the first time in my life I didn't have a "stomach." I was flat where I was "supposed" to be flat and curved where I was "supposed" to be curved. For the first time since I was 14, I saw an hourglass.

I can't explain the boost of confidence that surged through me at that moment. The pain was too bad to express it; the stress too time consuming to. But right there in that moment I felt pretty. In the middle of a falling apart world I couldn't save, something about me was right. At least I could face the chaos with a pulled together front, even if the inside was disintegrating.

I stopped feeling bad when I couldn't eat or forgot a meal.

And that's where the trouble started.

Because eventually we can eat and we have enough time to eat. We just don't want to. Maybe we feel guilty to eat because we think we have a few too many extra pounds. Maybe we're too lazy to workout and skipping lunch has a similar effect. Regardless, let's get to the point of this - insecurity. On some level we're insecure. So we find it, or try to find it, in our bodies, in the looks cast our way, in the compliments, in the flirty conversations.

But that security will always leave you empty.

Trust me. I'm still empty.

I'm only full when I turn to the proper Source. It's not enough to just recite trite comments to ourselves about how "God looks on the inside" or "real men only care about the inside." Face it, the problem isn't where others look. It's where we look. Are we looking at the superficial, the transient, the fleeting? Are we only caring about the flitting comments about the short lasting appearances? Don't get me wrong, hearing we look good is  good for us. But peanut butter despite it's high level of protein isn't enough to live off on more than a literal level.

While it's important to view yourself as beautiful because God made you that way, it's also necessary in my experience to tell yourself your good at other things too. Find something you're confident at. Sure, make jokes about your stupidity.... but remember you have that diploma. You know Aunt Jenny's pies are better than yours, but remember yours are still pretty good. Yeah, your friend has a new boyfriend but you were special enough for that other friend to invite you to a movie for a great girls' night out. Learn to find the encouragement and uplifting praise all around you - even if it's just stumbling over a weedflower and saying, "Thank you for thinking of me, Jesus!" I know I'm being simple here, but I mean it.

But most of all.... we have to go to the Source of all confidence. The Source of life. The Source of love and acceptance. We have to love Him. We have to put Him first. And then nothing else matters so much, hurts so much. (need triple) It's baby steps. He'll guide us through. We can't put Him first by ourselves. But one turn and He'll meet you there. Turn, cry out, and He'll be there.

This isn't an easy battle. Nothing happens overnight. We didn't get here overnight. I'm still fighting. Choosing to be hungry when I'm really not. Choosing to eat three meals a day even though I know just skipping one would keep me a few pounds lighter... (yeah, I gain weight weird. ;P) But if the choice is never things will still change - just in the wrong direction.

The One Thing Worse

...than a man that does porn...

...is being his porn.


It's when it's the goodbye little nothings that mean so much turn into something more. Suddenly you know that what he's thinking and you're thinking aren't the same thing. So you throw out some questions... and the answer you get is...

"I have lusted for you."
Instead of watching some other girl's body on a screen, he's watching you in the screen of his mind.

Don't settle to be lusted for. Don't settle to be a cheap play thing - or even an expensive one. Don't settle because there seems like there's nothing better.

"She dreamed in color. She dreamed in red. She couldn't find a better man...so she lied and said she loved him..." - "Better Man" by Pearl Jam

That may be the way it feels. But you can. And even if you can't, it won't be worth it later down the road. You can't fulfill lust. No one can. It can never be satisfied. So for now it's feeding on you, later it'll be something else. Don't justify. Don't rationalize. Don't be manipulated.

Don't compromise.

You are your own. Rather, you are God's. You are His masterpiece, His temple. (ref) Don't allow human hands to destroy it. Because when you allow your outsides to be compromised, it does a terrible thing to your insides. The line may look fun, past the line may look even more fun. But it won't be worth it.

The physical body will never be enough by itself.
The psychological being will never be treated the way it should if it grants permission for it's outward holder to be used. In short, it will not be enough either if it compromises. It'll just be yet another body. Not yet another soul. Compromise leads only to being seen as a physical object although compromise in essence issues from a choice of the soul.

Wait, one might argue, it was such a small line. But what is a small line, really? There is the line that all the lines leading up to it serve as safeguards. So yes, feeling down your leg might be justified as a small line. But is it really? Because what comes after that? Kissing down the shirt, past the cleavage, digging around in the bra?  And what comes after that? And what signal does it send to a girl's heart when it's done without complicit permission? Does it make us love the perpetrator? Does the perpetrator love us more or love our bodies more?

If that was your boundary to start with, I'm not here to discuss where lines should be for each individual relationship, well fine maybe. You reached your line. But when you're line is here and your manipulated (even unintentionally with puppy dog eyes and downcast countenance) to move the line to there don't be surprised if the "there" line ends up being totally disregarded. If you gave someone your bank account information saying they could pull $100 and they pulled $200 maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal. But what if they pulled $1000? $1,000,000? Should you just say "That's ok. Anyone could fall like that"? I doubt many people would say that. Point being, one line leads to another and then to yet another. It's human nature.

Don't compromise. You are God's home.  You includes your body.

Stain Glass Masquerade

I moaned in sheer agony. We complain a lot about pain but agony is a pain so deep it obliterates all other sensations.

"[I want to] Curse this morning sun that drags me into one more day." - Casting Crowns

12:06 am - the morning before finals

"Dear God, not this. Not now. No. NO. no..... Dear God, no!"

I was shrieking in a whisper to the Maker of the universe, the God I had relied on and turned to and run to and sobbed and yelled at. I was throwing my hands in front of my face and begging Him to make it stop.

But this is no "stain glass masquerade".

"I'm not looking back. I'm done with that. I give You all I have." - "Live with Abandon"

The true agony is that we make it a masquerade. As time went on I became aware of this more and more. As glad as I was that people I loved could come to me with their battles and problems, I was acutely aware that they needed therapy and professional help - neither of which I had. But how could they get it without being shunned and labeled and made into those people - you know the ones. They're whispered about in the name of "praying for them."

"Break down these walls.... Even if it hurts so bad that I can't stand, take it all, Father." - "Wrecking Ball"

In our society inward struggles are hidden, named weird names or just massly called "sin" be they sins or not. Sin itself is unspoken of except in terrifying chandelier-shaking hellfire sermons or fuzzy mushy messages of watered down salvation. Regardless, it's vague. And God forbid you struggle with depression, anxiety or heartache. You must be psychologically ill. So go take your antidepressant and paste your smile on. Face abuse alone lest you be chastised for "gossiping". And porn - you'll boil alive forever.

"People never crumble in a day" - "Slow Fade"

And Christianity as we know it contributes to it.

"I shy away from the specifics...cuz then you'll see my heart." "Who I Hate is Who I've Been"

Seriously, do we think failing to face the facts is going to make us better Christians? Face it, I don't care if you don't want to. To err on the side of conservatism at least 50% of men in our society are addicted to pornography. Thirty percent of pastors have watched it on the Internet in the last year. Eighty percent of Americans state they live depressed. It's not uncommon for girls as young as 15 if not younger to be given a slew of antidepressants. Note: these girls come from supposedly "normal" American homes. Divorce rates across the nation stand at 50% with Christian rates almost as high as secular. 

"So sink or swim, I'm diving in." "Dive"by Stephen Curtis Chapman

I wiped my eyes and looked back at the unflinching white computer screen. I took a deep breath before I too unflinchingly said, "Tell me everything I need to know. Make me understand."

There were several more moans before the plastic masks were successfully yanked off of the set. 

"I was sure that by now You would have stepped in and saved the day.... I hear You say, 'I'm [still] with you.'" "Praise You in the Storm"

We have to step up, people. God works though His children. He wants to work through us, use us for His purpose and glory. He can't use "happy plastic people under shiny plastic steeples" ("Stain Glass Masquerade"). It puts our infinite Christ in a box. The challenge? Go rip off your paper mâché exterior. Get off that stage. Now. Go and listen. Don't judge your brethren. Go out there and be real. Don't slap your brother or sister when their mask cracks. Your own is barely holding together. 

I knew next to nothing that night. Within an hour I knew a lot more. Yes, it hurt. I wanted to stop the pain. My pain - but mostly theirs and every other suffering person's. 

That's what you'll find if you rip off your mask and open your heart. You'll find the sin more reviling only because of its ability to wound so deeply. Apathy is lost. Satan becomes very real and you long to see him defeated for the final time.

"If our God is for us then what can stand against us?" "Our God" by Chris Tomlin 

You'll have to cling to that because sometimes sin will look devastating. You'll see hopelessness when the mask comes off. You'll have to find hope, faith, love. Or rather you'll have to pray for it. Ask Him for it.

Problems aren't something to shrug off and assume someone else will take care of them. As the body of Christ even the least of these should be the concern of all. So don't just shove praying, listening, fighting on the pastor, elder, counselor. 

"Would you give me the time to show me... there's a God Who's more than all I've ever wanted. Cuz I need a little hope. I need to know I'm not forgotten.you might save my life." "Save My Life" - Sidewalk Prophets 

I'm tired of apathy. I'm tired of not facing reality. I'm tired of fakeness. Christ is the Spirit of reality. So let's take our responsibility of being made in His image and if He cares, let us care.

We may moan. We may throw our hands in front of our faces. We may yell stop. But ultimately, I want to be there. I don't want to shun any of my brethren for being more than plastic. 

"I confess that I've  been blind....  Open up this heart of mine.... Let this world take me where You want me to go. Show me how to love." - Sidewalk Prophets 

Goodbye Plasticism. Hello Christianity.