that white dress.

For me, it was my wedding dress. But for most people it happens before that. 
It was two weeks before my big day, and I decided I was going to starve myself. 
    

You can get by only eating like 150 calories a day. Just drink lots of water so you feel full. 

In all actuality, I drowned my self conscious thoughts in Fraps and Firehouse Subs.  I at least got the light options. 
It had hit me. The comparison bug. Like a mosquito creeping into my sheets, I didn't even know it was there until I'd been bit six times where it itched the most. I wanted to be the most beautiful bride, but not even for myself or for my husband to think I looked good. 

Mainly, crazily, I was thinking about what other people would think once they saw my pictures on Facebook. I admit that with every bit of embarrassment I have in my body. 

I grew up on top of the world in a sense. Confidence was something that came naturally to me. My parents thought I was awesome...so I thought I was awesome. I wooed people in school, extra curricular activities, personal relationships, church, etc. I never struggled to get noticed. Not that I thought I was the most beautiful person in the world, but self esteem was not a low point for me. 
Looks are an obvious topic of discussion when it comes to confidence, but my adolescence was also a tale of stability in who I was as a person, my character, my integrity, my sense of humor, my purpose. I often found myself not able to relate to people that constantly spoke from a jealous heart.  I didn't understand why girls brought each other down, trash talked each other's decisions, and made life so difficult to live contently. I was satisfied with who I was. And for the life of me couldn't understand why everyone else couldn't be, too. 

I think that was God's way of teaching me that peace is possible, contentment is obtainable, and confidence is in Him. 
I grew up. And slowly, but surely, that sneaky little devil of the Enemy stole my joy, killed my confidence and destroyed who I was, who I was created to be. I zipped up my wedding dress, pinned in my veil, and thought, good enough. Before heading out the door to meet my hunk of a groom. 

As time went on, I wondered what happened to me. How did a confident girl like me snowball into this shell of discontentment? The more I compared myself to others, the more I compared others to...others. The more I wanted to see myself through a "Nashville" filter, the less I saw the good in others. If I couldn't see the good in myself, how was I ever going to look at the girls around me and see the beauty in their spirit, the shine in their soul and the radiance of their character.

I don't believe in coincidences. I believe in redemption.  

I don't believe in myself. I am human. Why would I? But I believe in the Spirit of the God and the abundance of gifts I undeservingly inherit.  That confidence that seemed to disappear with a bat of my eyelashes was a gift that I failed to recognize. 
Nine times out of ten, conversations I have with girls about struggles in their lives are of the comparison-type.
    

• I don't understand why MY family has to the broken one. I just hate watching other families be perfect. 
• I can't be friends with her when she has this boyfriend. She doesn't have time for me.
• We're both up for homecoming, and all of the sudden I'm being treated like dirt.
• This group of girls is going to make me popular. Don't you understand?  The things I'm doing aren't stupid. They're productive to my social life.
•  #thighgapgoals
•  If I could just hang out with that crowd... 
•  I'm not content with my life. It's not fair. So I've started to cut myself to feel a release, any relief, from the pain.

We approach each other through the same lense that we see ourselves. I'm not pretty enough, skinny enough, popular enough, funny enough, so why should she be? Why does she deserve it? Why can't I have it? 

And thus the state of girlhood today is born.  We lose heart in ourselves. And think that by wishing, wanting, provoking, gossiping, fixing, Pinteresting, we can bring something to ourselves, even if it means we steal it from each other. 

I lost heart in who I was. God created me with a passion and a purpose. And with a beauty that is the joy of bearing His image. I forget that everyday. I see myself the way I'm told I need to because of what other girls say, do, act. I started to believe the lie that others, or even myself, get to decide who I am, not the Lord.

I have this hope. A hope that we, girls, can rally for revival. A revival of the nurturing, loving, joyful creatures we were put on this Earth to be. There is a trove of untapped potential in all of us just waiting to break out. A treasure chest of individuals that were woven together in this story of life with unique qualities, beauties, and joys. 

I once asked some of the Godliest, most captivating women I know to write a letter to their teenaged self. All of them had a common thread: be unashamed of who you are. They weren't afraid to be, well...themselves. They found the courage to be who they were created to be. None of them said it was easy or that they didn't fall. But they all were women marked with a courageous heart to be themselves in a world full of girls comparing them to everyone else. They found peace and contentment in seeing their friends through the same view they saw themselves: unrepeatable and beautifully made. 

We don't get to do this life again. My hope is that the cry of our girlish hearts is to see ourselves as our Father sees us: an image-bearing princess to the Almighty King. We would find peace in the image we bear and the courage to live knowing we are one of a kind. Maybe, just maybe, then we'd be able to spread joy like icing. Glopped, messy, but sweet and delicious. 

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world. -Jesus (John 16:33)