Ending the Search for Unattainable Beauty...

Ever since I've gotten pregnant (YAY!!!!!!!!), I've taken a serious look at how I treat myself.  For most of my life, I have felt frumpy, chubby, scarred, and unattractive, and because of these feelings, I haven't always been kind to myself. 

Because I don't want my child to ever struggle with self-acceptance the way I have, to the point of trying to end my life, I'm ending The Search.  Today, I organized all of my nail polishes and makeup, getting rid of some things I've never worn, or don't like.  After counting my 18th lip gloss, I realized that I had a little bit of an addiction.  It seems fun and harmless, and to be honest, it really is fun until I sit down some days later and consider why I've bought yet another lip gloss, nail polish, eyeliner, or perfume. 

The reason behind it, for me, has dark roots.  It's because I'm looking for something transformative.  Something that will make me a better me, a different me... or maybe not me at all.  But no matter how hard I try or how much money I spend, I still see me in my mirror.

And that's got to be okay.

Yes, I am frustrated that I am so overweight.  It sucks to be tired all the time.  But ever since I've felt this little person start to grow, my body has begun to symbolize something else.  By turns, I am intimidated and awed by the fact that there is a human being growing inside of me, a son or daughter of God who has chosen me to be their earthly mother. 

Somehow, this pregnancy is forcing me to accept myself for the way I am, not the way I want to be someday.  Because of it, I can see past the scars.  I can curl up under the covers and sleep like a contented cat, soft and warm.  I can wrap my arms around my stomach and imagine what a comfort it will be for this child to have somewhere soft to snuggle, remembering the last time I hugged my soft, beautiful Mamma.

I still have a long way to go, but I'm amazed at the progress I'm making.  This life is good and sweet, despite the fact that I'm not the weight I want to be.  I will get there someday.  Many of the scars I bear are evidence of a life saved; I'm learning to rejoice in them.  Without them, I wouldn't be here.  And while I see "frumpy," my husband sees "sexy librarian."  There are far worse things to be. 

Carriage Driving Circuit Training: Finding Joy in the Journey

There are so many things I'd like to talk about!  That's what happens when I only write once a month.  For one thing, I finally found a job.  As of now, I am a ground manager/driver-in-training for a small carriage tour company in Frankenmuth.  I love the work, and I've lost at least five pounds since I started from climbing up in the carriage, getting down from the carriage, grooming horses, hauling water, wiping down the carriage, scrubbing equipment...  It's amazing.  When we get out to Utah, I'll have a whole other skill set I can use to market myself to potential employers... and I'll be buff!

I have had the incredible good fortune to befriend the owners of Black Dragon Farms Friesians, and through them, I am free leasing my dream horse, a beautiful mare named Vesper, who instantly befriended me and started me on a wellness journey.  It's primarily because of her that I've had any kind of success so far.  I wish I would have considered long ago all the horses I could be riding (and riding better!) if there were less of me to get in the way. 

I've thrown the word "can't" out of my vocabulary, with the exception of the following:  "I've never done that before, but I can't wait to try!"  Aside from one or two small setbacks these last few weeks, I've noticed a few things:

I feel stronger physically, emotionally, and mentally.
When I think of myself, it's often in positive terms.  This is new!
For the first time in my life, I feel as though I have a lot to offer.
Because my employer and the owners of BDF believe in me, and believe that I can become a more competent horsewoman, I am able to believe it of myself, because I can finally see it happening.  I can hardly wait to be able to give someone else that same chance.
 I have come to believe that God wants me to have horses in my life.  He has opened these doors for me so that I can live better... live joyfully... and learn to love the person I am becoming.  For that, I am so very thankful.  

Health from a Different Perspective; Chiropractic Medicine and General Conference

Hello, friends!

As many of you know, I spend a great deal of my time in search of health, happiness, and the ability to see myself as a divine being; a daughter of my Heavenly Father.  Unfortunately, most of the time, I become mired in this human experience and don't make much progress.  I'm sad to say that my self-image has been suffering as of late; I hope that the steps I'm taking now will improve it.

This past week, Chris and I have been seeing our chiropractor, a fantastic doctor and great friend.  She is a member of the Church, and I just love the Spirit that resides wherever she goes.  After I'd been adjusted, I asked her what I could do about my weight.  One nutritional evaluation later, I am on a small regimen of supplements that have eased the nausea and fatigue that I deal with on a daily basis; a blessed relief, indeed!

This weekend is General Conference, a time that I look forward to with great anticipation.  As a convert, I had never realized that women were not asked to pray, but I'm thrilled to be a member at this time.  I have always believed that women have a voice in the Church that is equal to the priesthood.  I'm grateful, however, that one of my sisters in Christ is being given the opportunity to pray for us all in the name of the Lord.

Aside from this momentous occasion, I'm looking forward to hearing from our Prophet and his apostles, among others.  There is a love and hope that I feel during Conference that is almost tangible, that comes with the knowledge and the affirmation that I am beloved of God, and that my sins are atoned for in Christ Jesus, an affirmation that will hold me fast to my strengthened testimony of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Have a blessed week, everyone.  

New home, new beginnings...

Today was my first as a member of the Flint ward.  When I was there two weeks ago, I was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face at the door, an Elder whom Chris and I welcomed into our home many times in the first few weeks of his mission.  We're certainly feeling blessed to be the ones to send him home with honor as well!  This morning, though, felt different.  The Spirit was amazing; I felt like I do sometimes in Conference, as though the talks were written especially for me.  It was a wonderful welcome, that's for sure.

I'm getting a little nervous about our financial situation, but I know something will come along.  If I've learned anything since my marriage, it's that I've joined up with a very blessed (and peculiar) people.  When my husband exercises his priesthood authority in prayer, Heavenly Father takes notice.  Sometimes I feel as though I'm just sitting there in amazement, watching mountains move.

Last week, when I attended the temple, I was in the grip of a deepening depression.  I thought "If I can just get to the temple, I'll be all right..."  I am convinced that my husband's prayers on my behalf in that sacred place pulled me out of what could have been a crippling downward spiral... I've not felt its' effects since.

I know it won't always be easy, and I hope I'll be able to visit my family often, but I am so glad we're here.  I know it is the Lord's will, and I am so happy to know that we're following His plan.

31... now what???

Hello, all. 

Yesterday was my birthday.  I turned 31, an age which I have never bothered to imagine myself.  Why?  Well... because...

(i was supposed to have everything figured out by 30.)

Wait... what was that??  Oh, right.  I was supposed to have everything figured out by 30.  Husband, career, kids, horse, all that stuff.  Hahahahahaha... well, at least I've got one out of four, right?

Also, I have decided on a career, I just can't make it happen right now.  I want to get my realtor's license and specialize in historic property sales.  I also want to sharpen my genealogical skills and work for the Church.  So far, I need a wee bit more education, and a (much) closer proximity to Salt Lake City. 

Kids.  Well, all I can say about them is, we're open to the possibility.  It's totally up to Heavenly Father when though, and this year, I'm not stressing. 

Horse.  I know what I want.  I want a sane, sound, sweet older gelding with a smooth gait to be a trail and local show buddy.  I'm no longer a breed snob.  I still dream of the day when I will see my name on a stall containing a pureblood Friesian, but I'll settle for a cross breed.  Heck, I'll settle for a Heinz 57, as long as he's strong and kind and has a peanut rolling canter and an easy jog.  This also requires a closer proximity to SLC, since that is where we want to settle.  I get fairly sick imagining the cost of moving not only all of our belongings, but a horse 2,000 miles, and it's enough to make me thank the Lord that I don't yet have a horse of my own.  I certainly wouldn't mind a lease, though, once this darn foot heals!

Here's to what's sure to be an amazing year. 

Taking Criticism with Love: A Bitter Pill to Swallow

I was given some criticism yesterday that hurt me to the quick.  Brothers and sisters, I'm trying my very best to be gracious, and to realize that what was said was done so out of love.  I'm also trying to get beyond myself and get to the kernel of truth within the criticism.  Maybe you can help.  Here is what was said, as best as I can remember it:

"Sister McGinnis, why do you think you have so much trouble with the jobs you undertake?"

What I heard:  Sister McGinnis, you are lazy, and you complain too much and make up too many excuses.

The truth:  Ever since I resigned from the program I was working for when I first moved here, I've had to take the first jobs that came along.  I accepted the hospital job because it was close to home and the pay was better.  I wasn't very good at it though; I knew it, and so did everyone else.  Going to work made me so nervous that I developed IBS, and jumped every time someone called my name.  I never quit that job, just transferred to Dr. Feder's office... and life was so good there.  Doc was kind and patient, and constantly looked out for the health and happiness of his staff.  When he had a stroke, I cried for a week.  I applied for no less than 30 jobs, between doctor's offices and hospitals.  OMG! was the only retail application I put in, and they are the only ones who called me back.  Thus, I am a retail manager.  Considering the health issues I'm dealing with, between the MS, the fibromyalgia, and the chronic headaches caused by hydrocephalus, isn't it obvious why I would have issues with standing for 8 hours at a time and trying to motivate teenage workers who just want to stand there and look pretty?

"I've dealt with some of the people you've dealt with, and I don't get the same animosity from them that you do."

What I heard:  You are oversensitive.

The truth:  Yep,  I am, and I know it.  But show me one abuse survivor who isn't.  Show me one who doesn't run from confrontation.  I cannot stand to be yelled at, disapproved of, or talked down.  When I asked my husband about the person in question, he said "I've heard it.  She's nice to me, but there's a tone in the back of her throat that says 'I was just a total B to your wife, but I'm going to tone it down for you because I can't push you around like I can her.'"  To the brother who said this to me:  OF COURSE she doesn't talk to you like she talks to me... you're the one writing the blessed check. 

So I'm a doormat.  Sorry.  I'm working on it.  I've been working on it for years.

"Sister McGinnis, we can give you a calling.  But what's to say that in three months, you won't be miserable again?"

What I heard:  Sister McGinnis, if we give you a calling, what's to say that you'll actually show up and do it?

The truth:  Yes, I am unhappy here.  But not having a place in the Church is only making my unhappiness worse.  This last year has felt like 365 days of headache and heartache and bad luck.  I feel as if I didn't pray enough before I came home; that I did what I wanted to do, and didn't listen to Heavenly Father's plan for me.  Though I wasn't terribly happy in Michigan, things were turning around.  I was working in the temple and being blessed for it.  I had found a wonderful riding instructor and friend with a kind and healing band of horses to love.  I had finally found my place in the Grand Blanc ward.  We should have stayed.

But now we are here, and I have to make the best of it.  I have to find within myself the strength to hand it over to my Father and say "I've made a terrible mess.  Please fix it.  Please fix... me."  I don't do well with being so far from a temple.  It's as if a life-giving source has been taken from me.  I pine for the peace that I could always find within those walls.  I believe that I'm meant to be a Utah Mormon, with a temple in my back yard.  Does that make me a bad person, because I don't function as well or as happily without regularly participating in those sacred ordinances?  Really?

To anyone who feels the same way about me as this brother:  Please accept my apologies.  I have not been doing my very best, and for that, I am sorry.  I hope I have made myself clear, and I acknowledge that no harm was meant.  I look forward to proving you wrong, and hope that you do, too.

In the wake of the Sandy Hook tragedy, all I have been able to do is pray.  I can't begin to understand the depth of the grief and loss  that so many parents and loved ones are experiencing right now, but I come to the table with the perspective of one who has suffered with mental illness for a great many years.  It's not something I like about myself, but it is something I have learned to live with, if not control. 

At it's best, my illness manifests in small quirks:  OCD-type eccentricities that don't really get in the way of my life, except to make me waste time.  Middle ground is where I'm usually standing, more stressed out than I should be, and more fatigued than anyone ought to be.  Even then, there is a sane part of me that reminds me I ought to get back to school for a new career, or keep looking for something less stressful than retail management.  My family and friends keep me in check, and if I don't get too panicked, I'm generally okay.

At it's worst, however, my illness is a terrifying thing.  It has lead to self-mutilation, self-medication, hospitalizations, shock therapy, and suicide attempts that left my parents wondering who would care for me when they were no longer of this world.  Thankfully, I have not been there in a long time.  Hopefully, I will never be there again. 

I have never been able to understand homicidal tendencies.  I have always turned my anger in on itself.  The only person who has ever had cause to fear me... is me.  It has taken me  a long time to learn to love and accept myself, but perhaps it's because I have struggled so much to gain that love and acceptance that I can't begin to understand where this lack of respect for the sanctity of life is coming from.  I don't care what kind of problems you have, there is always a way out that doesn't involve violence against yourself or anyone else. 

I can remember what it feels like to lose my mind; to feel like reality was going on somewhere else, somewhere apart... and without me.  Even with that realization and understanding, there is no level of insanity so deep as to justify the crimes that have taken place.  All that is left to do is pray for those who have lost loved ones... and to pray for each other... that we might try to help each other out a little more... that we might try to be more caring towards one another.  Are we not all just looking for reasonable happiness in this life?  Can we not be more kind, and in so doing, make that reasonable happiness all the more attainable for each other? 

Or have we fallen so far from grace that we only care about ourselves?