...we are hunters, hunting for something that will make us okay...

I remember when I was little and my parents would tell me I was beautiful.

I remember laughing because I knew they had to say that. They’re my parents.

I remember having a conversation a few years back with a guy about girls and body image.

I remember him saying how stupid he thought it was that girls struggle with the way they view themselves.

I remember thinking his words were incredibly insensitive and completely true.

I remember a prayer that was prayed over the girls on the CIS team as we prepared to come overseas.

I remember it was a prayer of protection- that we wouldn’t fall into the false belief that is strongly felt here-that our worth comes from what the mirror or the scale says about us.

I remember coming to Russia and being amazed by all of the high heels, makeup, and tight clothing.

I remember thinking how ridiculous it is that a size four is borderline fat here.

I remember feeling sad that so many women here find their worth in how skinny they can be or how beautiful they can look.

You know what I don’t remember? When I first started believing those lies for myself.

God, I thought I could rise above these pressures without you. I thought I had a firm enough understanding of what truly matters in life. I thought I was confident in the fact that my worth comes from you. God, I was wrong.

Forgive me. Remind me. Help me.

Help us.