I don’t remember the exact age at which I started to feel self conscious about my body, but I know I was twelve when I began to feel that how I was wasn’t just different, but not good enough. All through highschool I yearned to look different, to look and feel like the thinner, casually pretty with hair up in a messy bun and the ever present eyeliner girls in my school. And yeah, high school is an awkward time and who doesn’t feel self conscious and long to fit in better during that time–men and women? But for women, why does this doubt and inadequacy so often center on appearance?

I’ll say now that I have a heap of questions on this topic, and few answers. What I’m most interested in is hearing your thoughts and responses to these questions.

I feel that my story is like that of so many (all?) women. My teenage years held a lot of angst and deep feelings of unworthiness because of how I looked, but I grew past much of that. I accept and appreciate myself and my body far more than I did when I was 16. So why are these feelings of unworthiness and doubt so easy to dredge up? Why are my feelings about my body so deeply tied to my mood, and vice versa? Continue reading What Makes You Beautiful →

A few weeks ago, I attended the International Clergy Meetings in Bryn Athyn, USA.

Or did I?

I think everyone can agree that I was in Bryn Athyn at the time, but whether I was present at the Meetings themselves… well, you can decide.

I first realized that there was some confusion while at the Clergy & Wives dinner. There, we wives had been toasted by our husbands, “we couldn’t do this without you.” Juxtaposed against that, after dinner I learned that a group of women had set up a protest—they had left shoes outside the door of the room where the Meetings were being held. Empty shoes meant to display the absence of women’s voices in the governing of the Church.
Continue reading Pay No Attention to the Woman Behind the Curtain →

My kids set me up with a Facebook page, so I could see the photos that they posted of their children and of their activities. They would email me the fact that they posted something on Facebook, and I could “open” the Facebook link and “like” it or “comment”. But I had to “friend” them first.

I soon found that if I “friended” someone, a long list of people’s names and faces paraded down the page, as possible friends, and I could choose to “friend” them or not. Shorty after I started this activity, I was at a party, and a woman I knew said, somewhat accusingly, “I friended you on Facebook, but you didn’t friend me back!” (Uh-oh, I thought. Have I just started a new stream of obligations?) All I could say was, “I don’t have to ‘friend’ you on Facebook for you to know you’re my friend!”
Continue reading Social Media →