I was 18.
Anorexic.
Bulimic.
Bipolar.
Depressed.
And ADHD.
Clinically diagnosed.
On medication for all at the same time.
I remember my daily routine.
I would look in the mirror.
Tell myself how ugly I was.
How I wasn’t pretty enough.
And how no one would ever want me.
I felt nothing.
n o t h i n g.
I was numb.
Going through the motions.
Trying to find my way above ground.
To just catch one breath of air from the imprisonment I was in.
And what about you?
What are the lies that you believed about yourself?
Those lies that had you searching for love and acceptance in all the wrong places?
Beauty.
What is beauty, anyways?
Little girls wanting to look like their barbies.
Music videos with girls in nothing but strings on, dancing for men and getting all the attention.
Twelve year old girls thinking ‘skinny’ is a compliment.
Fitness magazines having girls starving themselves.
The wife who feels absolutely worthless after her husband had an affair.
I had reached a moment where everything stopped.
I still remember the night.
The location.
The music playing.
The smells.
Every single detail.
That moment where my life froze.
And everything came crashing down.
I could no longer breathe underground.
It was like someone was almost done throwing the dirt over my grave.
And I had to make a decision.
Because I could no longer tolerate living that way.
So, I made a decision.
I decided that there was more to life.
There was more to me.
And with help, I took my first breath above ground.
And then another.
And then another.
Until I came up, gasping in the taste of the sweet air that gave me life.
I was alive.
Now, after being that girl.
That girl who was imprisoned in her own little hell for six years.
My heart is wrecked for every woman and girl I come in contact with who doesn’t know.
Who doesn’t know how important they are.
How valued they are.
How worthy they are.
How loved they are.
And just how beautiful they are.
You see, beauty is not defined as an image of perfection.
Beauty is not how many men you sleep with.
Beauty is not being silenced.
Beauty is not being supermodel skinny.
Beauty is not how many compliments you get in a day.
Beauty is not how many facebook likes your photos get.
Beauty is not physical.
Beauty, true beauty, is when a woman becomes who and what she is supposed to be.
When her foundation is so solid in the Lord and who she is, that she stands unshaken.
So I ask you.
What do you see when you look in the mirror?