Two Sundays ago, I preached
a sermon to over 100 Africans about the fatal spirit of comparison and
humility. After the sermon, my team and I were standing outside the church
greeting the members. Our contact, Pastor Moses, first affirmed the prophetic
nature of my sermon and then gave me a bit of constructive criticism. He
mentioned that I should have shared a bit more of my testimony concerning
comparison. I plainly responded, “I was afraid I didn’t have enough time.”
He then proceeded to ask me about my experience. I said, “I’ve struggled a
lot with comparing my appearance to other women.” With an incredulous look on his face he said,
“What’s wrong with you?”
If only you could have seen
the expression on his scrunched face. It was as if he thought there was NO WAY
I could have ever had this struggle.
I stood there with my foot
in my mouth thinking…”Well, what is
wrong with me?”
It was at that moment in
time that I decided to finish writing a blog that I started two months ago. I
mentioned previously that our time in
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia was by far the most spiritually challenging month on the
race. There was a reason. After months of processing and soul searching I am
ready to share my deepest and most painful struggle of my life.
As a young lady I was
convinced that my body was my primary source of meaning and identity; that my
value depended solely on how I looked. For most of my life I have been
vulnerable to the messages that continually told me that the best way to be
loved and to love myself, is to have a really good body that no one can
criticize – including myself.
To me, a thin body was a
symbol of control. There were some things I couldn’t control. I couldn’t stop
my parents from getting a divorce. I couldn’t make certain girls be my friend.
I couldn’t force a guy to like me if he didn’t. Therefore, when I found
something I could control, it became the most-cherished asset in my life.
And it was never just my
body. Say I got my body to be in a place that I wasn’t too unhappy about- well,
then it was on to the next thing. My teeth alignment. My face structure. My
hair. It never stopped. I just kept finding ways to be unhappy with my
appearance. No matter what, I was not going to be enough.
At certain points in my life
improving my body image or appearance was an obsessive addiction. It became a
false god that I worshipped. I was proud of myself for skipping a meal,
portioning out my snacks, and exercising extensively. I thought “Man, I am
disciplined”, when really I was just avoiding my lack of discipline. I clearly
had no real intention of pursuing a healthy lifestyle despite my manipulative
attempts to argue that I was.
Denial is one of the
easiest ways to cope when others are harping on your unhealthy lifestyle. Our
culture praises people who are a size zero. I was praised every time I have
ever lost weight “Oh, Christina, you’ve never looked better.” I yearned for
this kind of response. When I got it, it was like fuel for the fire. What
people didn’t realize was that each comment caused me to obsess even more with
either maintaining that weight/look or improving it further.
I had to become honest with
myself. Sure, people could tell me all day that I had a problem. My boyfriend
has told me for YEARS that I cared too much about my appearance, that I wasn’t
fat, that I looked beautiful… but nothing ever made me feel better. I had to
let go of the pretense that everything was under control.
Through much contemplation
over these matters I have come to a dark conclusion about my past. I missed out
on a lot of life. People often tend to make remarks about my carefree and
outgoing personality, yet, they probably could have never guessed that for
years I was drowning in a sea of self-contempt. Sure, some days I felt
confident but one big meal, one injury, one rejection, one bad review and I
would withdrawal back into the suffocating confines of my own prison. The
prison of comparison. Self doubt. Insecurity. I relied so much on affirmation
from others that it seemed like my whole life was just one big performance.
This is an excerpt from an
email that I sent two months ago:
Lately one of my
biggest revelations has been that I have a deep issue with my image. You can
call it anything but I know that it is most likely the darkest and most well
kept secret of all the hardships in my life. I’ve tried to hide it but the
Spirit has worked it out of this month with all the temptations that come with
a big city. I have hit several breaking points in the past few weeks that have
sent me into panic modes that the enemy just loves to enhance through powerful
lies. Until recently, I don’t think I’ve ever taken such refuge in the Lord. To
me, it seems like all the things in my testimony can be drenched in pity and victimization.
However, I have come to realize that despite all that I’ve gone through, those
are not the things that I hold most captive. God has shown me my own sin more
than ever. He has revealed the vanity, the narcissism, and the unwillingness to
let go of control in this matter in my life. I’ve been answering to the world
in some ways, like in body image and my appearance and to God about my heart
issues. I can’t have my foot in both realms. This has been something that I
have struggled with for so long. Even at my thinnest, I was still crying about
how I wanted this or that to be thinner or how I wished my teeth were
straighter. Whatever it was, I have been insatiable. Impossible to please. What
makes matters worse is that I can’t even find freedom with the man I love
because I am incapable of believing that he would love me at any size. That his
love will be contingent on how I look. It’s like I’ve left no room for grace. I
punish myself. It’s a nasty cycle that I know many people deal with… it’s
just it is more than just typical body issues. It is Satan’s biggest stronghold
in my life. I have had to verbally rebuke the enemy’s lies daily for the past
two weeks just to make it through. I’ve been coming up for air more though. At
least I don’t feel like I’m drowning like I have earlier on the race. But I see
so clearly my problem with comparison. Most of the time the comparison is
ridiculous- like me comparing myself to a girl half my size. Oh, I want to live
outside of this, I just don’t know how. I have been seeking God fervently about
this but know that without accountability, I may not fully heal.”
This is a poem I wrote once I saw the light at the end of
the tunnel:
Mirror image
There she is looking back at me
Imperfections overwhelm her
So much to fix, so little time
Appreciative?
Barely
That would be prideful
Or would it?
It’s never been O.K. to like herself
Been told she’s never looked good enough
Change your hair
Or maybe clothes
Show more cleavage
Give yourself away
The words spoken numb her soul
Her face becomes blank, even lifeless
Panic takes over inside
How will she ever live up to these expectations?
Thin body equals love
It’s always felt that way
One less meal
That’s what will do it
But wait, she’s eaten so little
Yet needs to be thinner
Just ten more pounds
One less meal
That’s what will do it.
She smiled at me last week
Wearing only a string bikini
Knowing that attention would come
The wrong kind
But she felt more confident
More beautiful
Untouchable
The world won
I told her the Truth
She wouldn’t listen
Her heart knows I’m right
Yet fears the change
Dreads living without the crutch
I’ve done so much to hurt her
Kicking her while she’s been down
So what should I do?
Let her live this way?
Or fight for her freedom?
She thinks she’s free
Yet bondage consumes her
She’s never believed me
Why should I even try?
Is it worth it?
I get hurt every time
I can’t just give up
Can I?
No
I couldn’t
I will never let her go
Because I would lose her forever
I know the Truth
I will speak it to her gently
Remind her that real beauty lies within
That a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised
That she is a one of a kind masterpiece
No, I won’t let her go
She’s a part of me
She is me
She’s my mirror image
