Dear Zach,
This is my second letter, I know I won't receive a response, yet I keep praying that someway, somehow you'll let us know, let me know that you're okay. I know you must be, there's no way a beautiful soul like yours couldn't be. But the silence is still deafening. I almost called you the other day, just out of habit to ask you to come hang out with us. Knowing you wouldn't answer was a little overwhelming.
I'm trying to step up and look out for her, but you know how hard this has been on her. She thinks about you every day. She dreams about you at night, and she tries to drink you away and just ends up in a deeper hole than before. I'm trying to keep it together for everyone that relied on you. I'm just not you. It's not the same. You were so much better at this than I am. You have a way about you that's just so calming. I could look at you, and your little sideways smile or your not so subtle words, or even your unsolicited compliments, they always just made me forget why I was upset.
I just wish I could've done that for you.
The irony is that everyone ran to you for comfort. Everyone looked to you to be the strong one, the one who had it all together, and now that we're here without you, we don't know who to turn to. Sometimes being happy and acting like nothing happened feels wrong, but I know that's not how you would have wanted it. I feel silly for being so upset about this, when you had much closer friends and family of course. Yet there's still this strange questioning void inside me. I feel like you were trying to tell me something the last time we spoke, and even though I try, it's hard to convince myself that there still wasn't anything I could have done.
There's so much more than I want to say to you, and to ask you, I just wish I could. We miss you so much, though I'm sure you already know that. I hope it's everything you dreamt it would be, and that you don't even remember the pain and the suffering. I hope that one day, when it's my time, that you'll meet me at the gate, and that we'll talk for hours, not remembering any of this. Until then, fly high sweet angel. At least it's good to know we have you looking out for us. So in that sense, nothing has really changed..
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Monday, September 15, 2014
My Obsession With Body Image
Tonight, we had a speaker visit our campus, her name is Stacy Nadeau. Stacy was a model for the Dove campaign that premiered and took the world by storm in 2005.
This campaign started the conversation about what it is to be truly beautiful. It showed different women, of all shapes, sizes, ages, colors, and even hair types in only their underwear. Nothing like this had ever been done before. So why was it so important? It started the conversation that you don't have to be tall, skinny and blonde like the airbrushed models we see every day to be beautiful. A conversation, that still, nine years later, is not even close to being over.
Stacy's message really stuck with me for a few reasons, one being that I had given a group presentation on the Dove campaign last Friday before I knew she would be speaking, and because I've had my own personal struggle with body image for as long as I can remember.
I've decided to share my own story, which normally I would't do, because I like to portray myself as a strong and confident woman. However, lately I've seen some of the most beautiful and most important women in my life struggle with their own body issues, and I want them to realize their own value.
Growing up, I was always bigger than my friends, taller, and wider. I matured faster, I grew farther, and I didn't understand why.
I was never "fat", but there were times when I felt like I was. I struggled buying jeans because the ones that were long enough were too small, and the ones that fit my waist barely covered my ankles. Tops were just as difficult, I needed a larger size to accommodate my breasts, but could never find one that did both that, and fit my waist without looking like a tent. Any of the tops that did were too short to cover my entire torso.
Needless to say, it took quite a while for me to establish my own sense of style and feel good about what I was wearing and how I presented myself.
For a long time, I could eat whatever I wanted and not gain a pound, it was awesome. Unfortunately though, that couldn't last forever. The summer after my senior year in high school, I went through a pretty rough break up. I lost a lot of my appetite, and turned to working out to blow off steam. I lost twenty five pounds, and ended up being a little underweight, even though I did not have an eating disorder.
When I got to college I was learning how to recreate myself in a new environment, and as they say, the freshman fifteen catches up with you. I gained back some of the weight I had lost but I was still very confident. I was healthy, and I loved my body.
I got busy, I took on a lot of responsibilities, and my eating habits quickly turned back to Taco Bell at three in the morning, and whatever was convenient during the day. However, this time my high school metabolism wasn't there to back me up.
Now, I am twenty years old and weigh about 10-15lbs more than I did in high school. Do I love every inch of my body, every second of every day? Of course not. There will always be things that I'm not in love with about myself. Sometimes I think my thighs magically grow into the size of Russia when I sit down in a pair of shorts. Sometimes I'm paranoid that you can see imperfections through my shirts, but I am happy.
While I know I still have a little bit of work to do with my lifestyle, as far as eating healthier and being more active, I am taking steps to make myself happy and healthy.
I've given up feeling like I have to be skinny and perfect, or tan or have a perfectly round rump. I'm focusing instead on what I have in store for myself. I believe that a cute pair of underwear, the right pair of shoes, and a modest amount of confidence can make any outfit that I try on look beautiful.
In all reality, I wouldn't look right, or be me if I was a size two, and I have no desire to be. As Stacy said tonight, I am searching for my best healthy self, and to be honest folks, I don't think I'm far from it. Sure I may be able to wear a size 10, and rock a 38DD, but if I feel beautiful, then who is it going to bother anyway?
I'm not telling you any of this out of my own self interest, but to encourage girls who aren't happy, to take a really good look at why it is that they don't feel comfortable. If that reason isn't something that is effecting your health, then is it really one to be obsessing over? Realize how beautiful you really are, embrace your potential, and stop getting on scales. Seriously, they never help anyone.
I am NOT discouraging anyone from being healthy, and I am NOT putting down any women who are tall, blonde, and a size 0. I just want every woman, no matter what size you are to love the skin that you were given.
Below are a few pictures of me throughout my journey.
The images on the left are from when I was a little underweight, and the first time I stopped feeling like I was fat.
The images on the right, are me now, healthy, and happy.
This campaign started the conversation about what it is to be truly beautiful. It showed different women, of all shapes, sizes, ages, colors, and even hair types in only their underwear. Nothing like this had ever been done before. So why was it so important? It started the conversation that you don't have to be tall, skinny and blonde like the airbrushed models we see every day to be beautiful. A conversation, that still, nine years later, is not even close to being over.
Stacy's message really stuck with me for a few reasons, one being that I had given a group presentation on the Dove campaign last Friday before I knew she would be speaking, and because I've had my own personal struggle with body image for as long as I can remember.
I've decided to share my own story, which normally I would't do, because I like to portray myself as a strong and confident woman. However, lately I've seen some of the most beautiful and most important women in my life struggle with their own body issues, and I want them to realize their own value.
Growing up, I was always bigger than my friends, taller, and wider. I matured faster, I grew farther, and I didn't understand why.
I was never "fat", but there were times when I felt like I was. I struggled buying jeans because the ones that were long enough were too small, and the ones that fit my waist barely covered my ankles. Tops were just as difficult, I needed a larger size to accommodate my breasts, but could never find one that did both that, and fit my waist without looking like a tent. Any of the tops that did were too short to cover my entire torso.
Needless to say, it took quite a while for me to establish my own sense of style and feel good about what I was wearing and how I presented myself.
For a long time, I could eat whatever I wanted and not gain a pound, it was awesome. Unfortunately though, that couldn't last forever. The summer after my senior year in high school, I went through a pretty rough break up. I lost a lot of my appetite, and turned to working out to blow off steam. I lost twenty five pounds, and ended up being a little underweight, even though I did not have an eating disorder.
When I got to college I was learning how to recreate myself in a new environment, and as they say, the freshman fifteen catches up with you. I gained back some of the weight I had lost but I was still very confident. I was healthy, and I loved my body.
I got busy, I took on a lot of responsibilities, and my eating habits quickly turned back to Taco Bell at three in the morning, and whatever was convenient during the day. However, this time my high school metabolism wasn't there to back me up.
Now, I am twenty years old and weigh about 10-15lbs more than I did in high school. Do I love every inch of my body, every second of every day? Of course not. There will always be things that I'm not in love with about myself. Sometimes I think my thighs magically grow into the size of Russia when I sit down in a pair of shorts. Sometimes I'm paranoid that you can see imperfections through my shirts, but I am happy.
While I know I still have a little bit of work to do with my lifestyle, as far as eating healthier and being more active, I am taking steps to make myself happy and healthy.
I've given up feeling like I have to be skinny and perfect, or tan or have a perfectly round rump. I'm focusing instead on what I have in store for myself. I believe that a cute pair of underwear, the right pair of shoes, and a modest amount of confidence can make any outfit that I try on look beautiful.
In all reality, I wouldn't look right, or be me if I was a size two, and I have no desire to be. As Stacy said tonight, I am searching for my best healthy self, and to be honest folks, I don't think I'm far from it. Sure I may be able to wear a size 10, and rock a 38DD, but if I feel beautiful, then who is it going to bother anyway?
I'm not telling you any of this out of my own self interest, but to encourage girls who aren't happy, to take a really good look at why it is that they don't feel comfortable. If that reason isn't something that is effecting your health, then is it really one to be obsessing over? Realize how beautiful you really are, embrace your potential, and stop getting on scales. Seriously, they never help anyone.
I am NOT discouraging anyone from being healthy, and I am NOT putting down any women who are tall, blonde, and a size 0. I just want every woman, no matter what size you are to love the skin that you were given.
Below are a few pictures of me throughout my journey.
The images on the left are from when I was a little underweight, and the first time I stopped feeling like I was fat.
The images on the right, are me now, healthy, and happy.
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