The personal and introspective musings of an all-too-tongue-and-cheek college girl.


Sometimes I think I'm psychotherapy-tastic.

In honor of loving myself and encouraging others to love themselves too, I'm going to start doing a self-love exercise-type-thingie every day. I feel that all my time in therapy (not gonna say all the money spent on it, I think THAT was a colossal waste) has done me some good, so these awesome techniques, courtesy of TSN, are going to become a (possibly) daily thing for awhile. Join me? You can do some of them in your comments, but some are more personal, so you may want to do them on your own blog or on (gasp, people still use this stuff?) PAPER and tape them up somewhere. At least until you feel you've mastered it.

Here goes!

Today is dedicated to my physical body, which I've done very little to care for in recent years. I developed bulimia and anorexia nearly simultaneously in the 6th grade, and for seven and a half years now I've struggled with one or both, so this is going to be hard for me.

For this one, I'm going to forgive my body for all the things I've held against it.

Hands? I've used you for a lot of bad things. I've hit people (and myself, on occasion) with you, and I've used you to make myself throw up. And right now, thumb, you're killing me for some reason. I'm sorry I've been getting mad at you. And you know what? You're amazing. You can play piano incredibly, you make my handwriting look perfect and different whenever I choose, and no matter what happens, I promise to start appreciating you more.

Legs, you've always been excellent at dancing and walking and being graceful, even though I've hated you too. The way you look is directly related to how I've treated you. The fact that you, knees, are constantly killing me is because I overwork you in a struggle to be thin. I wish I could take back the damage, but I can't. I'm very sorry for that. I want you to know that I appreciate and love the fact that you work and allow me to be mobile, graceful, and functional beyond what many are capable of.

Go for it, please.

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I just went back and read my old Xanga (well, my last one. From my sophomore year of high school, for about two months. I had about 5 xangas in a three year span) and I wish I could go back and tell the younger me a few things.

First and foremost:

Beautiful, sweet girl, YOUR LIFE IS WONDERFUL. You do NOT need that boy you just met at church. About two years from now, you will break up with him and launch yourself into a world of pain you have yet to even imagine. He will treat you like an object, take away your precious virginity (yes, you read that right, you poor thing. It gets ripped away from you, I'm so very sorry. You deserve so much better), and above all else, he will destroy what little self esteem you have fought to keep. He and the multitude of other boys and men you are about to date (heads up, your first serious relationship will begin when the upcoming musical ends) will break your fragile, beautiful heart into unrecognizable pieces and make you question everything, including the faith you hold so dear. Yes, Abby, you will question whether or not the root of your upbringing is actually the right way to live. You will abandon all your beliefs for a month, during which time you will reside partially in a hospital and partially in your mother's large red chair. You will call the God of your youth out on everything you believe He has ever done to hurt you. You will shout at Him, curse at Him, beg Him on your knees, and blatantly reject Him when He gives you the answer you've been dreading. You will scour books and websites in search of a religion that gives you back what you think you lost, and in the end you will realize that God was the One all along. You will fight and fight and fight for relationships that end badly. You will give up everything you held onto so tightly to keep people who don't deserve you in the least. You will let go of friends you probably should have kept, treat your family like dirt, and you will cry. You poor, wonderful girl, you will cry. More tears will fall than you thought you had. Your head will ache and your eyes will be sore and your nose will hurt from the number of tissues you've obliterated. You'll starve yourself and make yourself throw up and you'll tell yourself that you are ugly. And you'll be lying. That simply IS NOT TRUE. You are NOT ugly. You're beautiful. And the people you think can validate that statement will inevitably lead you to question it all the more. Your relationship with your father will grow and change, but years down the road, he will still make you threaten to take your own life one more time. You'll live with him for awhile when your parents finally decide to get a divorce. Contrary to what you think, it hurts really, really badly when the split up. But you will be the strong, incredible person you are through that and you'll be alright. You'll cry and ache when your mother meets a new man. You'll fight against it and then you'll accept it, and him. And Abby? You'll meet a man you will fall madly, deeply, inexhaustibly in love with, and you will betray your relationship with him. You will lose him twice, and after that? I don't even know yet. But you are still beautiful, sweet girl. He will hurt you, and that will shock you, because you will tell yourself that HE is DIFFERENT. And truthfully, he is. But not in the way you think. You can't put your identity in him. You will fall and trip and fail and cry and ache and bend until you almost break, but you will survive.


You will threaten and desire to take your life twice. The first time you will tell on yourself and end up being grateful. The second time you will wish and even hold the bottle in your hands, but after shouting that you're going to do it, you will feel God grab you, and you'll throw the bottle across the room. You won't do it, and for that, I love you. You will pull from deep within you the courage to keep on living, and you will know that you made the right decision a little while down the road.

Abby, no matter what happens to you, and no matter how hard it gets, you won't give up. You're stronger than you know, stronger probably even more than I know. You are beautiful, courageous, witty, brilliant, and you are worth more than you will ever realize. You don't deserve any of the things that are going to happen to you, but they are going to happen anyway. And through them all, the God you were raised in will hold you, even when you shout at Him and tell Him that He's killing you by telling you no. And Abby, He's more than you realize right now. He's greater and more loving that you've seen or know.

You beautiful little girl.
I wish I could stop all of this from hurting you.
But I can't.

I'm so sorry I failed you, but from now on, I'm going to hold your hand and remember you. I'm going to take care of us. And God is never going to leave, He's shown me that. So in the darkest moments, remember that. You can do it.

You're a survivor.

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Oh wise internet, should I host?

I've been thinking it would probably be in my best interest if I'm going to turn blogging into a full-time thing, but I'm not sure where or how or what, exactly, I'm doing. If I do host, I'm definitely having Tracey over at Sweetney give my blog the full makeover, so I'm excited about that!

Any suggestions or ideas?