Resources: Stay Strong + HalfofUs.com

Last night I found some links that I wanted to pass on to you, primarily more information about depression and other similar conditions.

Demi Lovato's "Stay Strong," where she addresses her struggles with healthy eating, depression, self-harm, substance abuse, and ultimately rehab. (Yes, I got to it through Perez Hilton. Whatever works). Regardless of whether or not you have struggled with any of these issues, this is a very inspiring documentary for all women. If you have a few minutes, you should definitely watch it.

In the middle of the videos, there was a link for halfofus.com. I wish everyone knew about this campaign. If you have even a minute to spare, please jump on the website and watch even a single PSA. So many people don't understand depression, and therefore don't know how to help those around them, or even themselves. I believe this campaign is essential in increasing the public's understanding of these issues.

Grace

I don't believe in black and white. I believe that we all have had something in our past, or will have something in our past, that defines who we will become, the path we choose to go down, and even defines how people will see us.


If the world were black and white, the labels that I would be stuck with would shatter me. I wouldn't be able to progress. I wouldn't be able to become. I am grateful for my past, for my hardships, for any ounce of pain I have experienced, because it makes me who I am today.


I don't know much about the "People of the Second Chance" campaign, but the concept is inspiring.

From their website: "We are a global community of activists, imperfectionists and second chancers committed to unleashing radical grace everyday, in every moment, for everyone. We challenge the common misconceptions about failure and success and stand with those who have hit rock bottom in their personal and professional lives. We are a community that is committed to stretch ourselves in the areas of relational forgiveness, personal transparency and advocate for mercy over judgment."

I believe in all of those things. Wholeheartedly. And if nothing else, this campaign has caused me to reflect a bit more on my own labels, the ones I put on myself, and perhaps on others. It has strengthened my resolve to love others unconditionally, and to allow the concept of grace into mine and others' lives.


How have your trials shaped your life? Feel free to comment here, or shoot us an e-mail (allisonabarnes [at] gmail [dot] com). We'd love to hear from you.

Interview: Fat-Activist Jenn Leyva

I'm a huge proponent of modesty. I prefer baggy over tight, no midriff over exposed, long jeans over daisy dukes. I believe that the human body is sacred, and should be treated as such.

And even more so, modesty hides my belly pooch. Win-win.

But when I found out that an old friend of mine, Jenn Leyva, had become quite a prominent "fat activist," primarily through her blog "Fat and the Ivy," but also in outlets like the Huffington Post, I decided that honesty may override modesty in this case. Maybe I should be honest with my belly pooch and love it for what it is! (I'm cringing at the thought. Obviously I'm not there yet).

Friends, brace yourselves. Today we will be talking about our bodies.

photo by liz naiden

I recently sat down with Jenn to ask her some questions about her work as a "fat activist." Here is what she had to say:

Interview after the jump:

For our Utah readers:

More info here.

Introducing: Reachel's Love Your Body Challenge

Beginning tomorrow, the stunning Reachel Bagley of Cardigan Empire (and of the We Are Women book) will be leading the Love Your Body 10 Day Challenge. I don't know about you, but I will surely be checking her blog daily to see what treats she has in store for us.

Repost: A Virtuous Woman

Who can find a virtuous woman, II

by Louise Parker (from here)

I love the proverb of the virtuous woman. The woman described is so contrary to modern culture, but so perfectly admirable. And the terms to describe her are also, in fact, quite contrary to modern culture, but again, so perfectly admirable. And a little confusing.

"She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands." ...while perusing the women's clothing at Target?

"She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar." ...a far-mer's market? 

"She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens." ...and when it says meat, it really means frosted shredded wheat with 1% milk, right?

Despite some confusion, and some contradictions to the occasionally less-than-praiseworthy lifestyle that I obviously lead (yes, cereal is my primary food group), there are some universal truths to a virtuous woman mentioned in these passages:

"Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come." - You can't put this sister down! She's the ultimate optimist!

"She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness." - She's super nice to everybody! She also probably hosts great dinner parties with stimulating conversation.

In a world that constantly tries to put women down, or make us think that we're too smart, not smart enough, not curvy enough, not thin enough, and just not enough, the proverb of "How to find a virtuous woman" can teach some real lessons. Read it, pray about it, and decide what kind of a woman you want to be. No, you don't have to wake up before dawn to slaughter a pig and make some bacon for your household and all of your extended relatives who live within a 10 mile radius (in fact, you will never find me doing that, ever). But there are still some beautiful lessons and some valuable virtues to be found in this proverb. And for the men: what kind of woman do you want to call "yours"?

Related thoughts: My aunt's blog post about the Photoshop Diet, and another post of mine, "Learning that I am an 8 Cow Wife." Enjoy!


(This essay was originally posted here).

The necessity of loving yourself.

photo by gary barnes

I really do believe that womanhood is beautiful. I believe that a woman who has overcome a challenge is exceptionally beautiful, as is a bloated pregnant woman, a determined business woman, a I-haven't-showered-in-a-week mother-of-five, just about any woman. And men, too. People are beautiful. That's why my university studies are pointing me to a career in social services. And that's why I began the We Are Women Project, to celebrate the fact that we are beautiful individuals.

But as much as I believe these things wholeheartedly about others, that sentiment of beauty hasn't quite penetrated my own being. I never quite realized the depth of my own lack of self-worth until recently. I say "depth" because it extends even to my early childhood, when the foundation stone of my belief system was set. A simple statement based on simple childhood observations that continues to penetrate my thoughts and define my self-worth even to this present moment.

When this conclusion was made, I was advised to break down that foundation stone, then let everything above that settle gently down. Everything that has built upon that initial stone is so important, because it makes me who I am, but that initial negative statement needs to go.

I don't know if any of this is making sense, but that's where I am right now. I am learning how to live, thrive, and love myself. I think that's also part of the "I Am" project. Defining who we are. Discovering how beautiful we each are as individuals.

For more information and my progress with this topic, visit the apple a day blog.

Learning that I am an 8 cow wife.

Sister T is from the islands, and contrary to popular belief (read: from my prior knowledge of island life from this short movie, Johnny Lingo), there are no cows on her island. Still, after 18 months of living in Tennessee, she is astounded when she sees a single cow, let alone a pasture full of them (see below).

We watched this tonight, and while she got a huge laugh out of how ridiculous it is (and drooled a little when she saw the ocean), I discovered how beautiful this movie is. It rang more true to me now than ever before. Perhaps its the southern-weight-gain, or the eternal exhaustion, but sometimes I just need to remind myself a little more diligently that I am a beautiful woman-- that I am, indeed, an 8-cow-(future)-wife.

I Should Know Better By Now

I have a beautiful baby girl.

I have a creative, inspiring, tender husband.

I live in a colorful, happy home.

I have talents that I am discovering and developing.

I have organized friends into a book club so we can read and talk, two things I love dearly.

I live near friends and family who shower me with love and support.

I believe in a Father in Heaven who knows me personally and loves me.

And yet I still spend too much time feeling ashamed of how I look.

And worrying about what others think about me and how I look.

I should know better by now but apparently I don't.

I read this post today.

It's a part of a series.

"Real beauty is the confidence that comes with knowing that you are the only you, embracing that unique you, andsharing you with the world.

A few months ago I decided to stop comparing myself to what I was "supposed" to be, and just decided to be me, and I found my real beauty." (Nina from MammaGoRound)

I felt that I could find my beauty.

The beauty that is seen and the beauty that is unseen.

It's there.

It always has been.

I just need to find it and nourish it until I feel it in every part of who I am.

Battle Wounds

Acceptance of ones body is not a new topic. It is one that men and women alike have dealt with, though possibly in different ways. It is a struggle that I am familiar with. Learning to accept the body that carries me through this life. At times, that acceptance comes easily. Those are the times when I appreciate all the capabilities that this body has. But often it is a battle to remember the wonder that is the human body and not let that be clouded by imperfection.

This is not a new topic. We have all heard it. We have probably all felt it.

My husband and I had always wanted children and we were blessed quickly with pregnancy. But almost as quickly as we got pregnant, life turned upside down. I found myself extremely ill, weak, and unable to continue in a normal way. Appreciation for the life my body had helped make was quickly overshadowed by the misery of being too sick to move. Eventually the storm that we found ourselves in would calm enough for me to be able to get out of bed and see the sun again. I started to gain back the weight I had lost and began with the usual task of gaining weight for the growing child I was carrying.

I found myself being grateful for the weight gain and the baby bump that was finally appearing. Feeling a peaceful acceptance of my body for the first time in my life, I declared “I have done it. I have finally accepted my body as it is.”

But as with life, my body did not stop changing. And one day, that “peaceful acceptance” I had so confidently expressed was shattered and replaced with the reality of the changes that came with pregnancy. As the child grew, so did my stomach. And slowly, but surely, the stretch marks began to appear. Stretch marks: nothing new, earth shattering, or life altering. But they were there and they were permanent.

When I first saw them, I could feel emotions welling up. I began to cry. Yes, about silly stretch marks. I kept telling myself “It’s ok. This is ok. It doesn’t matter.” My husband also reassured me of my beauty and that none of it mattered.

And then I felt guilt. Hadn’t I been trying to gain weight at a healthy pace? Hadn’t I been applying lotions that would help? I felt that everyone knew and were secretly judging me and my inability to take care of myself. Any pride and joy that I had in my body was dwarfed by those marks that covered my stomach.

It was ridiculous and I knew it.

Because I knew other women with stretch marks and I couldn’t have cared less that they had them. They were beautiful. They radiated warmth and confidence, even in the imperfection of mortal and fragile bodies. I gravitated toward the beauty that came from those imperfect bodies and the lovely women who owned them.

So why did I think that I was different? How could my stretch marks make me feel less when I thought no less of other women who had them too? And hadn’t I declared acceptance of my body “just the way it was?”

But that was it. I had not accepted my body as it really was. I had merely accepted my body in the one small moment in time. I realized that to accept my body was to accept it and all the changes that life would inflict on it: age, pregnancy, weight changes, health and sickness. Those changes would never end. And in essence, neither would the process of learning to love the body that I have, imperfections and all.

The first step: to stop looking at those stretch marks as permanent scars of failure and frumpiness but to remember how these marks have been earned. They are my battle wounds. They document the struggle this body has fought through the whole pregnancy. They represent a willingness to forget self and to carry another human being until she can carry herself. How can I not take pride in that? I have struggled and wept and begged for relief and those were the scars to prove it.

I can’t lie; sometimes that panicky feeling comes back when I remember that those marks are here to stay. I forget about the wonders of my body and feel ashamed and saddened by the changes that I can’t stop. But when this baby wiggles and pushes, the marks are forgotten. When my husband lies next to me, rubbing that stretched belly, smiling and musing about the little girl we created together, I feel complete and more beautiful than I ever felt without those stretch marks. And sometimes, the amazement of what this imperfect body of mine can and has done overwhelms me. And really, those are the things that matter.