back to slow

Disclaimer: In the name of full transparency, please be aware that this blog post contains affiliate links and any purchases made through such links will result in a small commission for me (at no extra cost for you). Every time I play a board game with my child... Every time I reach out for prayer... Every time I make a chicken pot pie... Every time I send a thank you card... ...I remember the woman who introduced me to that skill or lesson...and I smile. I have been made a stronger, deeper woman because of those women that have poured their love and life into me. In one of my favorite books,  Wild at Heart , John Eldredge explains how femininity cannot bestow masculinity. A young man without a father cannot grow to be a man just by watching mom or grandmom. A young man can only become a man by watching and learning from other men--whether it's a biological father, family member, or mentor.  In the same way, I believe that femininity cannot be best...

I remember being 6 years old in my dance class. My mom walked out of the parent waiting area and offered me some of her Sprite. Two sips in I heard the teacher say from the front of the room, "That's enough. She doesn't need any more sweets." The other girls snickered.  I remember being 8 years old and dreading my parents' friends coming over. Their youngest child was my age and wasn't the nicest kid. One day, out of nowhere, she poked me in the stomach and said, "Boy, I'm glad I'm not chubby."  At 12, the two boys who bullied me, cornered me in the school hallway, got right up in my face and sneered, "Why are you so ugly?"  At 14 years old, my best guy friend told me that he would be interested in dating me if my legs were a little leaner and more defined.  At 16, I decided not to eat doing school hours so I could look like the girls in my Seventeen magazines. At 22 years old, I worked at summer camp (the fittest I h...