Victoria's Secret Models & The Daunting Proverbs 31 Woman...

Evening, ladies.

    There is this spot in the woods on the edge of the Sacred Heart campus where I like to escape. It consists of a shabby teepee and a muddy firepit, both built by adventurous (and probably tipsy) theater kids. It is complete with a mattress someone sneaked out from under the watchful eye of Res Life, and a trash bag for litter and beer cans. It looks out onto the hill of the golf course where stir-crazy students go sledding and smoke weed.
    Rachel and I go to this clearing in the woods to watch the sun set and talk about life and love and our purposes. We watch the sky turn pink and gold behind the bare skeletons of the oak trees, creating nature's own stained glass as day melts into night.
    Thing is, I wish I did that more often. I wish I gave myself a break every once in awhile. I wish I could eat an entire meal without feeling disgusting. I wish I could get an 80 on a quiz and not be disappointed in myself. I wish I could enjoy it when Joe kisses my forehead and not worry about damaged purity or ungodly lines being crossed.
    I'm mad at myself for wasting high school thinking I was fat and unattractive and a socially awkward moron. I've spent a lifetime trying so hard to be perfect, and I just need a break from it all.
    Being a Christian doesn't make me perfect. Having a boyfriend doesn't make me feel smart and beautiful, no matter how many times he tells me I am. Being an American citizen doesn't make life easy. I am finite, human, vulnerable. And I need to start taking care of myself and taking my dreams seriously.
    I want to wear tight-fitting clothes and not feel like a whale. I want to sit at a Starbucks all alone and just read. I want to get my driver's license and explore every inch of Connecticut, until our home state is loveworn by the tread of my tires and known like the back of my hand. I want to grow in my faith. I want to lie on the grass on a cloudy summer's day with someone who thinks I'm lovely and talk about the meaning of life. I want to raise tiny children who look exactly like little-girl-me- tiny and pale, with big dark eyes and curls and rosebud lips. I want to vaccinate kids in Africa and help mud hut-dwelling mamas bring squealing, brown babies safely into the world. I want to write a book about a socially awkward teenager with a quiet faith and desire to glorify God.
    It's okay for me to treat my body with respect, to eat and sleep and take long showers without feeling guilty. I don't have to wear makeup every day. I need to remember that it was never my brains or my looks that attracted people, it was the gentle kindness of my well-meaning soul that I don't see but my mother adores. It's better to be sweet and a polite loser than to be smart and gorgeous.
   Because,

*said in sassy black woman voice*

    My life is not my own. But that does not mean I should trash this unique form created by our Divine Father for some great purpose.

Kinda cheesy, but it goes along with what I'm saying.

    I hope you gurls all know you are drop-dead gorgeous and brilliant, and that that doesn't matter as much as your sweet spirits and hearts that strive to glorify God. You are radiant because you are undaunted in your quest for what is true, despite how hard it is to be so pure and unadulterated in a culture of lies and post-modernism. Don't forget to fight the good fight and always stand up for yourselves and for those who cannot speak on their behalf. And please, please take care of yourselves. Eat well and stay hydrated and go on long walks and cry when you need to. It doesn't make you weak, it makes you a fantastic human being. Jesus said, "Eat! Drink! Be merry!"
    So do.
    Mercy, I'll hear from you tomorrow.
    --Laura<3