Dear reader,
I still struggle with body dysmorphia.
But in 2021, I started wearing tiny clothes. For the first time ever.
I’ve been many different sizes since my teens, but I’ve always been shaped the same. I was a chunky kid, or a curvy girl. Even in the height of my eating disorder, my bone structure never changed. The shape of my scapulae, the curve of my rib cage, or how close its end is to my pelvic bone’s beginning; these parts of me don’t move, so size didn’t always “fix” things. My fat distribution never changed much, either (hormone problems also contribute to that). I was always a “thick thighs save lives” girl with a big butt, even if there were less adipose cells than before.
I felt deformed. Being raised in the early 2000s, this meant my whole life was a story of “Clothes Never Fit Right”. A story of my mom buying me women’s clothes at age 14 because the clothes my peers wore were too small. A story of being laughed at when I wore low-rise skinny jeans that gave me a “plumber butt”. A story of being called Britney Spears by a classmate because a button-up shirt I wore that day was a bit more form-fitting. (Which is a ridiculous insult, by the way. Britney is a queen.) It was also a story of seeing women being vilified for having a body that looked like a body. Every woman had to be paper thin.
When I was 11, the 2007 VMAs splattered the news with Britney Spears’s performance. My dad nonchalantly said that Britney was “maybe skinny for a mom but still fat for a woman”. He said that to his 11-year-old daughter.
I was insecure for so, so long.
Then comes 2021. After a pandemic shutdown that kept most of us at home for months, I’m an adult. I’m well past the eating disorder. I’ve graduated college. I make my own money. Screw it, I’m now just going to wear what I want. I’m officially not dependent on anybody else.
I wore Aerie leggings with a crop top. This was a new combination for me, and one that was trendy at the time. I was self-conscious at first; and worried about what my mom would think. She never would’ve let me leave the house wearing something like that growing up. I had been wearing the oversized T-shirt and Nike shorts combination for years.
I definitely spent way longer than I want to admit still sucking in my tummy. I spent way longer than I want to admit worrying about the shape of my butt, or my thighs rubbing together.
But it was so comfortable.
So over time, I adjusted.
My belly was out, every curve and line where everyone could see. My butt looked phenomenal. My thighs were being gently hugged by each other and the leggings with every step. Even my back rolls played peek-a-boo if I needed to reach something from a high shelf.
You could see pretty much every part that I’d been forced to hide before. I was the most visible I had ever been.
After a decade of either squishing everything in with Spanx, or completely hiding under a babydoll dress: leggings and a crop top freed me. I finally saw my body in real time. Every soft bit, I knew exactly what it looked like. I knew exactly what I looked like.
It took a while to make peace with certain parts of myself. But I could finally look at every part of me and look at every part put together to form the whole of me and be okay with it. I could finally see me and my body without shame and contortion.
My body dysmorphia is not gone. That part of me may not ever fully heal. But I made progress I’d never made before, because of this. Because of Aerie leggings and crop tops.
This particular method may not be for everyone.
This was the first of many times I’d leave my comfort zone. It definitely felt funny to start. Growth never comes without discomfort.
Looking back now, though, it healed me more than I thought it did.

Hello there,

I’ve always been painfully shy. I swore that I’d never approach anyone, and that I’d never let anyone know how I feel because being mysterious was my safety blanket. It was my safety blanket for many years, but soon I began to realize that it was also my shackle; a personal prison.

In order to set myself free, I had to allow myself to be uncomfortable.

But one day I did it.

I missed him. I thought about him daily. I worried about him. I needed to let him know how I feel.

The moment the words left my heart and mind and made their way to him, I felt overcome with anxiety and relief.

We grow when we leave our comfort zone, but we also battle thoughts from the enemy. Sometimes we are the enemy. But those thoughts in your head are just words. Words have power. They can either build you or break you. You have the power to choose what they will do to you.

He told me I made his day, but little did he know that he made mine even more.

Never underestimate the power of words, the power of a simple action.

It was that moment that constantly reminded me how important it is to let people know how much you care about them. The feeling of regret is much worse than my fears of the unknown. Never again will I cower from opportunities to share what’s in my heart.

And please friend, don’t let your fears shackle you as well. The greatest opportunities started out with a simple action. May that simple action of yours take place today.

Love, Cherie.

For years, I was always known as the quiet guy. I’d go to school every weekday (barring sick days, holidays, snow days, what have you). After school, I’d keep to myself and not go out on weekends.
I couldn’t hang out with people outside of school because I lived far away from the district. I was hungry for an outlet to express myself in a judgment-free environment.
Oddly, the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic gave me a sliver of hope to find the outlet I was looking for. In order to keep a daily routine intact (something that people on the autism spectrum, like myself), I started listening to podcasts.

I found one pertaining to 1990’s Nickelodeon, Big Orange Couch. After listening to the show for a while, I decided to email one of the hosts about a suggestion for an episode dissecting an installment of The Secret World of Alex Mack. I noticed that the guest character in the episode showed signs of autism. After a couple days of waiting for a reply, one of the hosts supported my idea and invited me on as a guest.

The big night came. It was a rainy Thursday night at the end of March. Usually, a rainy night kills the mood for some people, but not me. Within a few seconds of the recording starting up, I was cracking jokes in all directions.

I utilized my sense of humor advantageously and it was because of the icebreaking jokes that I was able to speak so openly about my autism. Before I knew it, an hour and 15 minutes ticked away and the recording was in the books.

Prior to March 23, I merely listened to podcasts. Now, I can say that I’m a podcast veteran. It all starts with finding a lane to open up.

Oftentimes the best opportunities have the strangest beginnings. This invitation to step out of my comfort zone is no different. It started with a meeting invite labeled “employee evaluation” coming into my inbox. Panic gripped me. I work hard, I do what I am supposed to, and I manage my many responsibilities to the best of my ability so in theory I should have nothing to fear, however anxiety and imposter syndrome make employee evaluations seem like imminent doom. So tearful and fearful I went into my evaluation. To my surprise it didn’t go the way I was expecting. My boss offered me a summer missionary position for a catechetical program called Totus Tuus. I had less than a week to decide how my summer would look.

I had applied for this position in 2018, but was not chosen. Things were simpler then, I thought. Now I had an apartment to take care of, rent and bills that needed to be paid, and I was in the middle of looking for a new roommate as my old roommate had recently moved out. As with many things I brought it to prayer. The words that came to mind were affirming that I should accept this position. My mind and heart were filled with the words of Mary in Luke’s gospel “Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to your word.”

Still trying to discern I told my mom about the opportunity thinking that her practical side would find some reason not to accept it. But I was shocked to find that she was agreeable to it and was willing to work with me to make it happen. With that I decided to say “yes” even though I had no idea what I was saying “yes” to.

Training began and it became a little clearer as to what a typical day would look like. But still I had no idea the extent to which God would stretch and grow me throughout my time as a Totus Tuus missionary. After a commissioning ceremony it was time to go out to our first parish and to teach the children about the kerygma (first proclamation of the Gospel) and salvation history (all the events that lead to Jesus coming into the world and saving us through His death and resurrection….in summation the whole Bible) and the sorrowful mysteries of the rosary. What a tall order for just one week!

This Totus Tuus program allowed me to be a fool for Christ. I normally work in a very professional setting and so there are certain expectations of how I will act, speak, and even look. This opportunity to be a Totus Tuus missionary allowed me to become more child-like. I learned to not take myself too seriously. I sang songs about bananas while stuffing a banana in my mouth, I pretended that I spent 6 summers at magic camp and pulled flowers out of a top hat after praying for them, I got hit with a water balloon covered in paint. I laughed and I played, and I experienced joy probably more than I ever have before.

Another way that I noticed God stretching me is in my spiritual motherhood. I’m a single woman with no children, but at every parish I felt this overwhelming sense of protectiveness over these children and I found myself asking questions that I imagine that every parent asks themselves on a daily basis:

Do they know that I love them? How have I made that visible to them today?
Do they know how much God loves them?
What is it that I needed to know at their age and how do I share that with them?
Is this moment a learning moment or do they just need someone to empathize with them?

As the weeks went on I found my spiritual motherhood growing in a way that it hadn’t before. I found myself tending to scraped knees with band-aids, working to mend hurting hearts through having honest conversations with the children and sharing a bit of my own story with them, I found myself each day just loving them with a profound love and delighting in them. This profound sense of motherhood also opened me up to my daughterhood. I came to realize that in the same way that I had delighted in these children, God (my Father) had always delighted in me.

Another thing that Totus Tuus taught me was healthy detachment. We spent only one week at each of the five parishes we were assigned to. In that one week as mentioned above I came to know and love the children we were teaching. I’ve never been good at letting go….for crying out loud my first and last name combined spells “hang on.” It was rough having to leave them but I also knew that I had to trust that God would water the seeds that had been planted that week. Also, it was always in the back of my mind that this might be my only opportunity to be a Totus Tuus missionary so I couldn’t let my identity be defined by my position or what I was doing because in the end it was a temporary gig. Again I was free to lean into my own daughterhood.

Looking back I realize how Totus Tuus was also an invitation to be vulnerable and to be honest with my teammates about my wounds and to be honest with myself about where I am in the healing process. I ended up sharing with my team about my mental health issues and about my triggers. I had been so afraid to open up to them as we had only just met each other several weeks earlier. But when I shared I was met with love and compassion; I was met where I was. One of my teammates even went so far as to come up with another handshake because she knew that fist bumps trigger me. There were a few challenging moments where some triggers were brought up unknowingly by the people we were ministering to and in those moments, I was faced with my own brokenness and was prompted to ask God for healing of these deep wounds. This honesty has continued even after Totus Tuus has ended. I recently shared with my team members that I am praying a certain prayer for my healing for 54 days and each of my team members is joining me in praying this prayer for the entire 54 days. It has been so beautiful how this experience of community has invited me to be honest about my struggles and how they have rallied around me in them and have interceded for me.

Totus Tuus was one of the best “yeses” that I’ve ever said. I have grown so much in my identity as a daughter of God, in my friendships, in vulnerability and in my leadership skills. So I challenge you dear reader if you are at a crossroads trying to decide between pursuing a good opportunity or not don’t decide based off your comfort zone. Instead ask yourself “what could happen if I say yes?” And then trust that God has a plan better than you could ever imagine.

It is true that the best opportunities have the strangest beginnings, and it is also true that the steps we take out of our comfort zone, the “yeses” we say while trusting God often produce an abundance of growth. Be not afraid.

I’ve never known a comfort zone
Constantly being pushed into places I don’t want to be
Dreaming, but only of nightmares
Remembering, but only the bad
Crying, but not of laughter

I want a comfort zone
A place where there’s peace
When I get there, I’ll be so uncomfortable-
But I’ll be happy

I have dreamed forever about moving forward with my writing career.
There were many different times in my life that writing got me through the pot holes and broken hearts, but somewhere in between different life lessons started to dim my voice and little by little, I gave up and decided to take a different path. My college major was assigned and I became engulfed in Psychology. After all, the world would always need my expertise and empathy. I had life skills to add to the process and my own obstacles that I was trying to navigate but I knew that I was going to get that degree. I was SO wrong.
As classes came and went I started to feel like each day was the same thing, same lectures, same people and the homework? Don’t even get me started on the 20 plus page essays that my brain started to struggle to complete. I had always wanted to help others, but my heart was just not in the classes. I started to slowly daze off in class and at the ticking of the large white and black clock on the wall became the most annoying sound. The other students were almost always arguing and debating creating a not so zen environment for my PTSD. I had do to something. I was paying a fortune for these classes, but I didn’t see or feel a future for myself. I ended my college career that semester. I immediately felt like a failure and started to slowly give up on everything. I lost my zest for life and spent most days sleeping while my kids were in school. A visit to my Dr would later show a diagnosis of permanent and untreatable depression from a closed head injury that I had a few years back from domestic violence.
Tests down the road would also bring about a major life change. I was diagnosed with a TBI.
I had a permanent bruise on my brain. All I could do was move forward with the physical therapy and counseling. I was shattered when they told me I likely would need to be put into learning disabled assistance if I decided to return to college. After the realization that I was going to need a bit of extra assistance in my classes, I ended my dreams officially of finishing my degree.
Fast forward to trying to hold down two jobs and deal with an emergency with my three children I had to leave employment. My head was spinning. Thoughts racing and I was always on the go. I carried a notebook in my car and would jot down little clusters of thoughts as they would come to me in moments of quiet reflection. ( That notebook was later lost in a move) Strike 3… You’re out!
There was an ache in my heart but never a good time to start writing again. The negative thoughts were always there. You can’t write, you couldn’t even make it through college. He was right, you’re stupid and going nowhere with life- You’re writing is not as good as the professional writers out there… We all know that voice. The one that laughs at us and tells us we are not good enough. The echo of anger and of self doubt was ALWAYS there.
Then, one night, scrolling through my phone I found the ad. I hit the follow button and went on with my every day things. Each night, I would go to that page on Instagram .You guessed it! This one. I clicked through the profile and decided to reach out VIA direct message.
The first conversation went something like this.
“Hello, are you a legit person?” I hit the send and anxiously waited a response. It was only a few seconds and Lauren messaged me back. I asked so many questions. My heart wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. 5.00 was the minimum monthly payment and I made up excuses each time and talked myself out of hitting that join us button.
Until one evening I was on and received a message. “Have you joined us yet?” It was Lauren I told her no and that we didn’t have the 5.00 but that I was still thinking about it.
There was absolutely no pressure. I felt so comfortable with the vibes of The Unsealed and a few days later, in the middle of the night suffering through a bout of flashbacks and anxiety I hit that button. I joined for the minimum and I looked around. It was beautiful. Everything was so pure, so raw and so honest.
At 1:30 am MST I stepped out of my comfort zone and I wrote my first entry. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off of my chest. I was home. I was safe to write out things that I had held in for years and there were others just like myself. We were a group of people that all survived different life obstacles and traumas and we were all in a way connected. I have never looked back and try to write now whenever I get the chance. Lauren and the Unsealed family have helped me heal and find my voice again. I couldn’t have done it if I had not taken that first tiny step out of my comfort zone and for that, I am so grateful.
Thank you to all of you, for helping me through this last few months.
My lips have finally become unsealed.

Three steps forward, 10 steps back.
Why does it always seem that commodities I lack?
I strap that pack to my body and fix my crown.
For leaving a place of comfort never comes sound.
Leaping into a world so unknown, praying on an outcome better than my own.
Some think it’s trivial, yet a place so brutal can never be.
I opened up to social media, ready for attacks for being me.
Sharing my truth, my humor and more.
Haters, scams and fans galore!
Persecuted for sharing my peace, adored for being just me.
The fright this put into me seemed quite silly.
However, the attacks I’ve received in the past makes them a plea.
An outcast in high school, but loved it.
I connected with the nerds, the goths, the misfits you see.
10 steps forward, three steps back.
Your slant is now what I lack.
For leaving a place of comfort to follow your path will always be bound.

A spirit bound within flesh.
I have become one in mesh.
A celestial being with utmost respect.
Shedding my light on the world as I bled and bled.
Gaining arrow after arrow in my back.
Never a helping hand do I lack.
Wishing a world full of peace and serenity.
Something that might not come unexacting for the ones who stepped on me.
Spreading awareness with love and light.
The utmost respect should be given to I.
I, a goddess in the flesh.
A divine human seeking success.
Not the success you see in material things.
Yet, success you see in making a change.
A change this world is desperate to gain.
I fly so high, up, up to away with my wings.
A human who should be so evil or unkind.
I wish nothing but the best for you and I.
Our souls know the ones not meant for our path.
Trusting the universe as I grasp my weapons.
Weapons gifted to me by ancestors in heaven.
Choosing wisely who’s given advantage.
For the utmost respect to me, as the battle I chose can heal he, she, we, within me.

Dear Gerald,
If there’s one lesson you’ve learned in all the years you’ve been on this Earth, is that you were worthy of respect all along. 

You knew deep inside your heart since you were little that you desired to be respected like a lot of your peers, family members, teachers, celebrities, and authority figures who you saw had a lot of respect, like the Reverends and Pastors you grew up watching preaching in a few Baptist churches. 

But respect was rare in your early journey. Not a lot of people shared your deep belief that you were worthy of respect. You were undermined, dismissed, and belittled just for existing how you wanted to exist. 

That soft-spoken sensitive soul just wanted to enjoy being comfortable in his own skin. But the troublemakers refuse to let that happen. 

These experiences of disrespect created doubt & inner demons that you would wrestle with throughout your teens and early 20s, while you tried to figure out who you were and where you fit in a microwave world. 

The inner demons desperately wanted to take you out and celebrate victory. But, something made you keep fighting, because you didn’t want them to win the war. 

Today in 2023, you still stand, feeling stronger than ever. Plus, you can say without hesitation that not only are you worthy of respect, but that anything less than the respect you expect is unacceptable. 

The disrespect you’ve endured throughout your life taught you that respect for self is imperative -  because without it, other people will disrespect you if they have the chance to. 

You’re worthy of respect because you’ve always strived to be a respectable person in a sincere way. The road wasn’t easy to achieve that. But you went through the fire to know what’s acceptable and what’s not when it comes to how you want people to treat you. 

You give people a chance to show why they should be respected and to see if you should respect them. If they failed the test, then they failed your class. 

You’ve learned repeatedly that respect should flow both ways between two people (or more) who appreciate each other. If respect is only flowing one way, the person who isn’t being respected must demonstrate self-love by removing themselves completely from that person. 

It can be a challenge at times to say that we’re worthy of respect if we rarely receive respect from others. But when we have people who care about us and show us how respect for ourselves should look, we can say what’s true in our hearts, that we’re worthy of respect too.

Sincerely,
Gerald