Dieting has become a rite of passage for teen girls.  I challenge you to find a teenaged girl who hasn’t tried dieting.  Sometimes the dieters lose weight, and other times they don’t.  Either way, they often hurl themselves onto a path of life-long roller-coaster dieting.  Whether the first attempt ends in success or failure, it likely gives them a taste where they long for more.  If they lose weight, they become believers, and if not, they profess to try again and again until they get it “right”.

Just when they begin to feel sure-footed from the triumph of dieting, the ground shifts beneath them, bumping them onto the merry-go-round of self-contempt.   They feel completely deprived, and begin to crave what they’ve started to call bad foods.  This turns them into eating machines.  The hunger wells up within them like a hurricane ready to ravage everything in its path.  They crave  fatty foods and sweet foods and salty foods.  Hunger consumes them.  Food, food, food, is on their minds a great majority of their waking hours and sometimes in their dreams as well.  They’ve opened the floodgates of eternal hunger and will never be the same.  They crave foods they love, as well as foods that they did not used to like before they felt deprived from dieting.

They now feel insatiably starved, which leads to the first all-out binge.  The binge fools their hearts into happiness, but only briefly.  This leads to a free-fall into the shaft of despair and depression, with waves of guilt and shame knocking them into the heart of hopelessness.  Around and around they spin on the merry-go-round of self-contempt, dizzy and depressed from a level of hopelessness they never knew possible.

Research shows the majority of people who lose weight by dieting usually gain it all back, plus more.  So what’s the answer?  Stay tuned for more.

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Many Americans will begin another year with a resolution to lose weight.  Most will start out with a bang, but then fizzle out like New Year’s Eve fireworks.

The majority will lose weight, but only a small percentage will keep it off.  Most will gain it all back, plus more.  They will then jump again onto the merry-go-round of dieting, which always leads to the feeling of deprivation.  This often causes  a binge, which causes shame and despair.  Then the cycle continues and the person hops back on the dieting bandwagon.  The cycle continues until they understand the truth:  Food and body image issues are as much about our hearts and our stories as calories and exercise.  Granted, a calorie is a calorie, and exercise is pivotal (unless it becomes an addiction, which happens to many people).  But food/body image issues (including eating disorders, although they are much more complex than this) are issues of the heart.

This trap of dieting, bingeing, dieting, and bingeing is a vicious cycle.  Sometimes it includes purging and/or an exercising addiction. More recently, research has poured in showing a strong correlation between binge eating, purging, and binge drinking.  The cycle of dieting, bingeing, dieting, bingeing repeatedly is hard on the body, mind, and soul.  Considering less than 1% of the people who lose weight will keep it off, why not deal with the roots of the problem?

If you are a professional dieter, you probably know so much about dieting you could write a book on it.  But the problem is you’ve missed the major piece of the puzzle.  I know I’ve already said it, but I want to shout it from the Space Needle:

Food, weight, and body image issues are as much about our hearts and our stories as they are about calories, carbs, and exercise.  If you continue to concentrate on the symptoms instead of the causes, it is like putting gas in a car that has a hole in the gas tank.  You will be successful, but only for a while.  This blog (and book, which is almost complete) addresses the underlying issues so you’ll have a greater chance of beating the Body Image Bandit.  Make this the year to address the underlying issues of your heart and story so you can become the person you were meant to be.

My hope and prayer is that you continue on the journey of changing your heart, working on the causes of your food and body image issues instead of treating the symptoms only.  After all, you’re worth it!

During these difficult times of your time line, you probably began to obsess about your body.

You attempted to self-medicate by dieting, bingeing, purging away your true feelings, and/or overexercising.  This offered you what we call the illusion of control in the 12-step programs.

In other words, your life felt out of control by your parents’ divorce, a move to another city, a difficult break-up, etc. You knew that you were powerless over the situation, so you obsessed about your body and attempted to control it instead.

Eventually your new, dysfunctional way of coping took on a life of its own.  Whether it’s obsessive overeating, bingeing, compulsive dieting, purging, or overexercising you’re struggling with, you’ve probably been looking for a solution for years. It became a beast in your life, and you have desperately tried to tackle it.  And now you’re wondering what really works in the long-term sense, not quick fixes that help you change for a small chunk of time.

“How do people recover?
We   believe an eating disorder is a mechanism for coping with stress. We binge,   purge and/or starve to feel better about our shame, anger, fear, loneliness,   tiredness and ordinary human needs. As we learn to address stress through other   mechanisms, the symptoms of the eating disorder tend to fade away. It is a   process, not an event. In EDA, we share our experience, strength and hope with   each other to help one another come to terms with and change how we deal with   life.
Recovery means living life on life’s terms, facing pains and fears   without obsessing on food, weight and body image. In our eating disorders, we   sometimes felt like helpless victims. Recovery means gaining or regaining the   power to see our options, to make careful choices in our lives. Recovery means rebuilding trust with ourselves, a gradual process that requires much motivation  and support. There are bound to be setbacks and moments of fear and frustration.   Support – professional, group and family – helps us get through such trials   safely, when we are honest about them. Support groups such as EDA provide   inspiration and opportunity for turning the most deeply painful and humbling   experiences to useful purpose. As we learn and practice careful self-honesty,   self-care, and self-expression, we gain authenticity, perspective, peace and   empowerment.”

That is an excerpt from Eating Disorders Anonymous, which provides great results for many people.  I truly believe in 12- step programs ,and have been in Al-Anon (a 12-step program for friends and families of alcoholics) on and off since 1999.  Next to my salvation, my husband, the gifts of attending Multnomah Seminary and another graduate school, Al-Anon has been one of the most beautiful gifts God has provided.  (The 12 step programs are not affiliated with any religion.) A true life saver. 

They say to try 6 meetings of a 12-step before deciding if the program works for you.  (Like life itself, you can find groups like people.  Some of them you really click with, and others you think, “holy moly, I feel so sorry for their mothers!”  So don’t give up.  Try different meetings.  Also, find a good therapist who is knowledgeable about your issues.

 from www.Eatingdisordersanonymous.org

Another great resource, also a 12-step: www.oa.com (Overeaters Anonymous)

Also www.celebraterecovery.com (for Christians)

Does the thought of preparing Thanksgiving dinner give you the shakes?  Maybe as you’re reading this, your heart is beating so loudly the neighbors can hear.  Images of undressed turkeys roll around in your head and make you wish you lived in India, where no one would consider eating a turkey, let alone cooking one.

Memories of yesteryear haunt you throughout November, and this time of year often brings nightmares.  You’ve considered seeing a therapist about this.  Last night it was the rerun of the time you didn’t have any turkey bags like Aunt Myrtle swore by.  So you wrapped the turkey tightly in a role of plastic food wrap and secured it with duct tape.

It took a two-week sabbatical from work to get the exploded turkey and plastic film off your self-cleaning oven.

The night before last, it was the a nightmare about the gizzard gravy with plastic incident.  It was the first year you’d cooked a big bird.  You plunged it into the oven, without removing its fine little hairs and gizzards.  (Always rinse poultry before cooking to remove the fine hairs.  Most people don’t know this life-changing truth.)  “What’s this interesting texture on the skin?“ your cousin Sam asked as he pointed to a scorched turkey hair.  “It’s so unique and delicious.  I must get the recipe before I fly back to New Jersey.”

These are the symptoms of Turkey Preparation Anxiety, which I’m sure will soon turn up in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for mental disorders.  The most severe type involves a nightmare involving an enormous turkey, which my friend Sally experienced last year.  She stood face-to-face with a human-sized raw turkey and repeatedly struck it with her fists.  She began pounding on her husband, screaming, “Get in the bag or I’ll …“before he woke her up and suggested she get help.  His black eye took a month to heal.

To make one last effort on turkey roasting, take a deep breath and relax.  (And don’t forget to exhale, or you won’t be around for another turkey dinner.)  Now say your prayers and slip on your apron with confidence.  Make sure you have plenty of leftover chili in the freezer, and thaw it out the day before.  Most people like chili, and you can thaw it quickly on the defrost setting of your microwave, just in case your bird bites the dust.

Carefully rinse the turkey and pat dry, talking nicely to it the whole time.  Turkeys are like copy machines in that respect.  If you’re in a hurry and don’t say kind words to them, they get attitudes and make you look bad.

Rub the bird with olive oil and salt only lightly.  Turkey experts swear that too much salt dries it out.  Do not pepper the turkey because this royally dries it out.   Dry, rubbery, peppery turkey tastes like singed stinky shoes.  Remember the one back in 1999?  Even the dog didn’t like it.

Spray your oven bag with cooking spray and the flour, just as per the instructions.  (Don’t use hair spray or it will blow up your oven.)  Resist the temptation to carve fancy designs for air vents.  The six ½ inch slats in the top should be simple.  I tried a Mickey Mouse design in the slats of the turkey bag one year, and it scorched the top of it.  My family called that one the Cajun blackened turkey, and refused to eat it.  That year we ate peanut butter sandwiches for dinner.

Place the meat thermometer exactly like the picture shows in your Joy of Cooking book.  Putting it in the rear end of the turkey is not an option.  And never go without a meat thermometer, or you are asking for big turkey trouble.

Now slip the turkey into the bag, tie it with the provided tie, and place it in the pan.  Before slipping it into the preheated oven, tell it again how beautiful it is and how much you love it.  Take it out at exactly 170 degrees.

As for the rest of the meal, delegate.  And if that doesn’t work, bring on the chili, which of course you made in advance out of ground turkey.  And the day after Thanksgiving, forget the mall sales.  Make reservations for next year at your favorite restaurant, and you can relax the whole year without getting turkey jitters.

]]> http://cherriemac.wordpress.com/2011/11/17/turkey-troubles-how-to-save-face-when-your-turkey-bites-the-dust/feed/ 0 Fannies http://cherriemac.wordpress.com/2011/11/10/cameras-cameras-cameras-the-impact-of-social-media-on-body-image/ http://cherriemac.wordpress.com/2011/11/10/cameras-cameras-cameras-the-impact-of-social-media-on-body-image/#comments Fri, 11 Nov 2011 00:57:09 +0000 Cherrie Herrin-Michehl, MA, LMHC http://cherriemac.wordpress.com/?p=790 ]]>

Our media-crazed culture chips away at body image.  But now that Facebook and other social media play starring roles in the lives of many, the chipping has changed to chiseling.  We are the most photographed generation ever.

Cameras, cameras, cameras everywhere.

How does social media influence our perceptions of our bodies?  It heightens our awareness.  Many who were slightly obsessed with body image are now hyper-obsessed.

On the flip side,

maybe the presence of social media has inspired some  to live healthier due to the plethora of pictures of themselves.  For example, some whose health suffered due to obesity, and who became intensely aware of it are now exercising regularly and eating healthier foods. If beauty is in the eye (lens) of the beholder, this is certainly supremely beautiful.

But my fear is we are now even more saturated with negative self-talk.  If I stand this way, do I look thinner? …If I tilt my head at this angle, do I look prettier? 

I recently needed an updated professional headshot.  Since I assisted someone in earning a BA at Brooks Institute of Photography years ago, I decided to take a few head shots with my web cam.   I experimented with what I’d learned.  Different angles.  Different head tilts.  Soft focus.  Hard focus.  Cropping this way.  Cropping that way.  A clean background.  A warm background.  Yes, I know the lighting is poor, but I’m not familiar with my web cam or WordPress enough to change it.

In the end, I didn’t use any of the shots.

Social Media certainly creates a new frenzy for the body image equation.

How do you think social media impacts our body awareness?

(Note:  All names and identifying information throughout my blog have been changed to protect individuals.)

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right.  A physician came in for help with anxiety and depression, and told me during one of our sessions he was going on a chicken diet.

“A chicken diet?”  I asked.

“Yeah.  Chicken is the perfect food.

If I eat mostly chicken and drink water, I can lose some of this.”  He grabbed some excess fat around his middle.

“I’ve researched it, and I can hit my goal in three months at the normal recommended 2 pounds a week pace.   I’ll have chicken for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and I’ll drop the extra weight.  Then I can wear cool, manly clothes.  And the best part is women will be really into me.”

He smiled and looked out the window as though he’d discovered the answer to all life’s problems.

“So then you’ll have a perfect life?”  I asked.  I’ve heard this magical thinking from many people.  Countless women mentioned that when they became “skinny,” they would buy cute clothes.  I usually asked why they couldn’t buy them now, but they generally scrunched up their noses and thought that was crazy.  They insisted they had to wait until they were “skinny” to buy fun clothes.

In fact, many people use the word “skinny” as a magical word.  Once they are “skinny,” their lives will become enjoyable, but not one minute sooner.   They realized they can find attractive  clothes in larger sizes now, but had no interest until they were – drum roll please – skinny.

The magical thinking continues: Once they get skinny, they can dress better.  Then guys will want to date them, which will lead to a perfect  boyfriend, which will open the golden door to the perfect life.  Once the door opens, they get the successful, attractive boyfriend, the perfect wedding, and then buy a beautiful home.

Finally they have children, and as long as they stayed skinny, their lives will be flawless, dreamy, and perfect.  So goes the beast of

Magical thinking comes in many flavors:  Once I get a college degree, life will be perfect.  Or once I get married, life will be perfect.  Or once I have a house or a larger house, life will be perfect.  Or a very popular version:  Once I move to _______, life will be perfect.  But the truth is, once we rid ourselves of such magical thinking, we will be much more comfortable in our own skin. Life won’t be perfect this side of glory, but once we can rid ourselves of magical thinking, we will be much more at peace.

© Cherrie Herrin-Michehl, MA, LMHC and Reclaiming the Plunder of the Body Image Bandit, 2007 – 2017. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cherrie Herrin-Michehl, MA,  LMHC appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

She graciously told me she would be honored to share the story if it would help other people.  Knowing that many readers have been enticed by the beast of bulimia, I assured Candy that others would gain courage and strength from her story.  And most importantly, they would begin to understand that when darkness and despair envelop them, hope still prevails.

“I totally get why another name for Satan is the Father of Lies.  Bulimia is the perfect example of this,”Candy said, as we hiked among the cedar trees and ferns.  ” After getting brainwashed by the media, you literally can’t think straight.  The lies saying you are not beautiful unless you are concentration camp thin invade every cell of your body.  And your brain gets re-programmed to think that your value comes from your packaging.”  I nodded in agreement as we stopped and listened to the sweet songs of birds.

“So the lie of bulimia, on the surface, seems like the perfect promise of satisfying your appetite while not paying the price for the calories.  A win-win situation. But actually purging only gets rid of about half the calories anyway, which many people don’t realize.  And once the cycle gets started, the bondage of bulimia casts a dark shadow over your life.  I used to think it was the magic cure, the great equalizer in the sense of calories.”  She took a deep breath as we gained elevation.

As we walked up the path, Candy told me about her background.  “My parents argued a lot.  They had a lot of fights – not physically, but my brother and I huddled together when they yelled.”  When Candy’s life felt out of control due to the yelling, she felt extremely out of control.

People often deny this and say it wasn’t a big deal because other people had it much worse.  While that may be true, it is minimizing the problem and helps to deny the depth of situation.  Living in a toxic environment is much more harmful than most people realize.”  I nodded my head in agreement.  It changes brain chemistry and causes damage to our immune systems.  And just as weighty is the fact that it teaches us yelling and screaming is ‘normal’ and that is what relationships are like.

Then she started to explain her first romantic relationship.  “It was never a good relationship,” she continued.  “I just didn’t have any good role models for relationships.”  Due to the rockiness of her parents’ relationship, her own dating relationships were rocky.  That’s what she knew.  Candy started dating Brad in her later high school years, and eventually they married and moved to Germany because he was in the Air Force.  They moved to a remote village so Candy felt isolated. She and Brad began to drink a lot each evening.  (We now know that bulimia and heavy drinking, including pre-alcoholism and alcoholism, often go together.)  He picked on her and called her fat even though she was only a size 6.  He controlled her  and often told her not to laugh or behave in certain ways.  All this negativity squelched her and made her go deeper inside herself.

Candy started to gain some weight because she felt bored,depressed and isolated.  She often cried herself to sleep at night.  Although she was still a size 6, Brad said, “I will not tolerate an obese woman.”  He also often said, “Boy, you eat a lot.”  At some point, she started to throw up because she felt ashamed of what she had eaten.  She had a history of self-abuse, and looks at her bulimia, in some ways, as an extension of the abuse.   “All I could think about sometimes was throwing up, and threw up 3-4 times per day.”  The bulimia took over her thinking, and she was caught in a vortex of shame due to the bingeing and the purging.  A squirrel crossed our path as she continued.

Brad’s control of Candy is very common to abusive relationships. (For more information on the warning signs of dangerous relationships, click here.  http://www.notjustsymptoms.com/clientimages/45365/newsletter%202_warning%20signs%20of%20dangerous%20relationships.html

Eventually she gave birth, and while Candy nursed little Connie, Brad tried to turn the mattress over on her.  Another time he said something about going to get a gun, and that’s when she left.  She came back home, and prayed a lot about her situation.  Candy learned about abuse and bulimia and learned how to deal with her feelings.  My bulimia was as much about purging feelings as purging food. “I can understand why you feel like that,”  I said.  “After all, stuffing is for turkeys

and teddy bears – not for feelings.”

“Feelings have to be expressed in healthy ways.  If not, they stay inside us and lead to self-medication including workaholism, drug abuse, alcoholism, food addiction, or something else.”  We stopped to admire the glorious view of Mount Rainier.

It wasn’t easy, but Candy was able to crawl out of the black hole of bulimia.  She wishes she would have received professional help back then, and that she would advise anyone who struggles with bulimia to get good help.  God created us to be in community, and when we live lone ranger lives, we rob ourselves.  Candy is eternally grateful that God helped her out of Bulimiaville.  Every once in a while she still gets an urge to purge, but she doesn’t follow through on it because she figures out what is really eating at her.

Decades later, Candy is happily married to a kind man.  No, life isn’t perfect because there will always be struggles this side of heaven.  Her three kids are doing well and one will graduate from college this year.  Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered the contrast of her old life and her new life.  Several years ago, she asked Jesus to take control of her life.  She told some people about her secret life of struggling with bulimia, and gradually she was released from its power.  Even so, Candy strongly encourages others suffering from bulimia to seek professional help. “The 12-step programs such as Overeaters Anonymous are great, too,”  she said.

I asked Candy if there is anything else she would like to say to other people who are struggling with bulimia.  She said, “Yes.  There is help!  Get professional help.  You don’t have to be this way forever.”  Well said, Candy.

Have you ever wondered how your life would be if you were drop-dead gorgeous?  Perfect.  Or close to it, right?  Each day would wrap its arms around you and offer you a grand gorilla hug.  The sun would shine on your back, but not to the point that your armpits would have big ugly pit stains.  Ahhhh…if only I were exceptionally beautiful.  Then you look in the mirror and reality slaps you in the face.  Oh dear.  Is this really all I get to work with?  And then you thank the good Lord for the invention of makeup.

I’ve had the privilege of living in many different places and knowing a variety of people, including some of the ultra-rich and some of the ultra-beautiful.  Their stories are imprinted upon my heart and have helped me to embrace the truth:   everyone has burdens to bear.  Even the wealthy (they have the highest rates of depression and suicide, and the Amish have the lowest rates) and the extraordinarily beautiful.  In fact the exceptionally beautiful have beastly burdens to bear.  That is probably hard for you to understand – unless, of course, you are exceptionally beautiful.  In that case, you totally get it.

“No matter what I do, where I go, or what I wear, guys are always checking me out,”  Linda said.  Modeling agents propositioned her frequently, although she never signed on.  She didn’t take the offers because she spent her passion and energy on her life goal of pursuing horticulture.

“I just can’t believe what happened this morning,” Linda said.  (Note:  Not her real name or identity.) She had mentioned during her interview for my book how she resented her physical beauty.  Linda’s sleek, dark brown hair and slender yet athletic frame added to her exotic beauty.  People often asked Linda her ethnicity, although her genes included variety.

She sighed deeply, tears rolling down her face.

“This guy – I have no idea who he is – was taking pictures of me while I was talking with my best friend on the phone.  I would have told him to get lost, but Calina and I were deep in our conversation.  Where is it gonna end?  I would do anything to look average.  Anything.”

Linda’s story shows the truth:  The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.  But most of the time, it’s AstroTurf.

(Note:  This is a condensed version of a chapter in the book I’m writing.)

Living in a culture where we drown in a tsunami of images takes a toll.  We forget that phenomenal women have hips.  The lies of the Body Image Bandit tell us if we’re not thin, tall, and flawless, we don’t possess beauty.  Yet that mentality is from the Body Image Bandit, the Father of Lies, whose mission is to kill, steal, and destroy.  The lies include:

1.  Fat phobia:  Research shows that teen girls are more afraid of fat than terrorism.

Due to the images our brains are saturated with, we are brainwashed into thinking thinness is the major criteria of beauty.  One way to combat this is to rid or limit our lives of fashion, beauty, and celebrity magazines.  After looking at such magazines for ten minutes, women become more depressed.

2.  Appearance is almost everything. 

God values our hearts much more than the size of our hips.  Actually, our internal qualities carry much more weight in God’s eyes.  “But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control.  (Gal 5:22)

4.  Food is the enemy, as it creates fat.  God created a variety of foods to be enjoyed in moderation.  Read related posts about deprivation, which remind us depriving ourselves leads to binges.

Yet if we allow ourselves treats in moderation, we will reduce our desire to binge.

5.  Beauty is completely external. A complete lie.  “What matters most is not your outer appearance – the styling of your hair, the jewelry you wear, the cut of your clothes – but your inner disposition.  (I Peter 3:3, The Message)

6.  Youth is beautiful and old age is ugly.  In many cultures, age is equated with wisdom and is greatly valued.  Yet in most so-called “advanced” countries, older people are devalued (women more so than men).  Wrinkles aren’t respected.

“Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life.”  (Proverbs 16:31, NIV)

I was moving to Paradise, where the sun would always shine on my back, the warm blue water would welcome me, and bad things never happened.  Or so I thought.  I didn’t realize that I was about to enter into shark-infested waters, but they would be inside the school.  The company my dad worked for outside of Seattle had landed a contract to put in the sewer system in Kihei, Maui.  He would be supervising.  Goodbye, rain.  Helllllllloooooooo, Paradise!

As one of only a handful of white students attending the school, a gang of girls approached me.  “Get da hell offa dis island, haole.  Go back to da mainland whea you belong,”  the leader said.  (Translation:  Get the hell off of this island, white girl.  Go back to the Mainland where you belong.)  When Gwen and her pack cornered me on the playground that day, I started to think it was going to be a long two years .  A cloud of fear and confusion engulfed me, and began to take root in my heart.

I was used to being popular and making friends easily.  So what was the big deal?  I just didn’t get it.  After all, we were all people, but just wore different colors of skin.

Day after day, week after week I was told I was worthless and shameful because of my white skin.  I felt like an apple in a pile of papayas.  They threw rocks at me, called me names, spit on me, and despised me before I even uttered a sound.  All because I was white.    One day, a native girl handed me a new, unsharpened white pencil.  She said, “Hea.  Take dis.  It’s white like your &*#%  haole face.”  (Translation:  Here.  Take this.  It’s white like your %^&* white face.)  The pencil dropped to the old wooden floor of the classroom, and my heart dropped to another level on the elevator of despair.   It felt like it was bleeding.  I began to wonder how long I could take the pain, the loneliness, and the fact that almost everyone hated me because of my white skin.

The depression became unbearable.  I despised my white skin, and wanted to have beautiful brown skin and dark hair.  But each day I swam, surfed,  or played tennis after school, and the tropical Hawaiian sun kissed my hair until it turned white-blonde.  My skin was a beautiful bronze, but I still paid the price for my light blonde hair and blue eyes.  If I would have been even a little darker complected, it wouldn’t have been as bad.  I could have looked half Polynesian and blended in.  But with the blue eyes and white-blonde hair,  I just didn’t fit in.  I cried myself to sleep many nights.

Sleep was my drug of choice.

One morning I noticed almost everyone wearing white bands on their upper arms.  I didn’t know until it was too late that it was Kill Haole Day.   They would be “choosing” one of the handful of white kids that attended the K-8 school to beat up.  That was it.   I needed to move back, so I told mom and dad that I had to move back to Washington, or go to a private school where most people were not prejudiced.   If not, I would drop out of school, although I was a very good student and my parents would never have approved.  Finally my parents relented and let me attend the private school.

Decades later, I am awed by how God used my Maui experience in so many ways.  Several years ago I interned at Union Gospel Mission Women and Family Shelter in Seattle.  I had the honor of working with many women of color, and sometimes they came in for counseling with stories involving race.  They would sigh and tell me I wouldn’t understand.  And I would say, “I have never experienced your story, but let me tell you a bit about my story.”  Their eyes widened, and they looked confused.  How could a blonde, blue-eyed, pale woman know anything about being a minority, they wondered.  Once I told them about moving to Maui, we began to enter into their stories with truth and grace.

After getting my teaching degree, I taught public school in several places in which most of the population consisted of Mexican Americans.  One time I asked the students to write about three things they would like to change about themselves.  I cried after school as I read the papers and many had written,” I would like to be white.”  So of course I shared about my years on Maui, and continued to tell them that they were beautiful just as they were.  One time a girl was going to buy blue contacts, and I was able to convince her that her brown eyes were beautiful and encouraged her to embrace her heritage.  Now I understand how it is that God can create beauty from ashes.  I have lived it.

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