So long Prince Charming

This is my declaration.

I do not want Prince Charming.
I do not want to be rescued,
or found.
I do not want to be admired, fawned over, praised,
or respected for my extraordinary beauty.
I do not want to hear how I am already beautiful
even though I don't have the right curves, right clothing, right skin, or right BMI.


Because Prince Charming implies
that I must be the princess of the fairy tale.
Because being rescued implies
that I was in harm's path.
Because being found implies
that I was lost.
Because being admired for my beauty implies
that I am my looks.
Because saying that I'm beautiful despite my lack of rightness implies
that there is a standard of beauty.


I am not the fairy tale princess.
(I do more than sleep, sing, and look pretty)
I am not in harm's path.
(I am also capable of getting out of harm's way if by chance I ever am)
I am not lost.
(I am taking the scenic route)
I am not my looks.
(I am a fully embodied human)
I am not less than a standard.
(I am me)


So, don't tell me how hot I am.
Don't tell me how sexy my body is.
Don't tell me that I'm the princess.
Don't tell me that you're Prince Charming.
Don't tell me.

Because I'm not gonna be listening.



** Edited on 13 March 2014: picture and formatting added**

Overflow: When tears become words

I am raw and broken.
I am a boat tossed in the sea.
Waterlogged and splitting, falling
apart as fiber after fiber
comes undone.

I can't continue, not without losing
the essence of who I am.
What do I do?
Do I surrender to the process?
Do I let myself be unmade in the
hope of being remade in a more
complete and whole way?
What do I do when what I thought
was my purpose is
no longer my purpose?

We talk about our desire to be
real, authentic, intentional.
But what do we do when the realness
is too much, when the unpolished
and ugliness of real overwhelms our persons?

Real requires time spent with the
pain and unpleasant as well as the
joyous and thought-provoking.
Real see the dissonances within living.
But what do we do when Real gets
too real?

I want to pull the mask up.
I want to pull away from Real.
Because...
Real is hard.
Real is brokenness.
Real is raw.

expectations and surrender

I'm not perfect. I'm messy and scatter brained and insecure. I speed, make california stops, and have driven without my license. I pretend to not see some people sometimes; I make rash judgments of people I just met; and I blantently do the opposite of what God is telling me to do. So why does it seem like certain people in my life expect me to be perfect anyway? That I'm supposed to not be unsure of anything; that I'm supposed to always complete tasks before they are due; that I'm supposed to never question where I'm going in life.

You would think that I would learn that I will never be able to reach their expectations, that I will always mess up, that I can't base my self-worth on them and yet I continue to set myself up for their rejection. Why? Why is it so much harder to get my self-worth from the only perfection in the world, Jesus Christ?

Maybe my problem is that I'm not keeping my focus on God and I'm getting caught up in my own desires and dreams. If I say I have faith then I'm saying that I have complete confidence that Jesus is who he says he is and that he will do what he promises. And he has promises us that he has plans for us that will prosper us and give us hope. ( Jer 29:11)

Maybe instead of me trying to be the woman that the people in my life want me to be, I need to surrender to the One who will always be by my side; to surrender to becoming the woman He wants me to be, a woman completely surrendered to Him


So what could I say
So what I could I do
But offer this heart, O God
Completely to You
       ~ The Stand, Hillsong