Archived entries for freedom

Down We Go: Cultivating Creativity

It’s time to quit measuring creativity as talent and celebrate the act of creating, instead.

By Kathy Escobar | Twitter: @kathyescobar

“God is heaven and art.”  5-year old girl at a Refuge art event

Everyone’s an artist.

God, the most brilliant creative artist of all time, put his image in us from the very beginning.

Creativity often gets buried beneath life, brokenness, circumstance and negative messages. Eventually, if we fail to cultivate it, we lose connection with it.

One purpose of the body of Christ is to help uncover God’s image in each other—to draw out the good, to call people to be who they are created to be, and to restore dignity, beauty, and purpose in others’ lives. 

On the downward path of Jesus, this becomes even more critical because of the amount of brokenness that’s present in people; a central part of our role in relationship with each other is to become dignity-restorers, people who call out God’s image in others.

I love that Jesus embodied dignity-restoration and empowers us to do the same.

As we become women who extend love mercy and compassion, welcome pain, honor doubt, diffuse power, practice equality, and pursue justice as Jesus-followers, others’ (and our own) dignity is restored.

There is also another beautiful and important way we can fan dignity into flamethrough helping people draw out and express their natural creativity.

To create is to directly connect with the image of God within. 

The Sufi poet Rumi says, “Inside you is an artist you don’t know about.”

The creativity that is in each person is a natural reflection of God’s creative image inside of us. When it’s stifled, buried, stuck, or ignored, not only do we miss out, but the world misses out, too.

When we have a space for creativity to flourish, we become more and more complete. Through creative expression, we are participating in God’s ongoing work of redemption in this world.

Subtly or directly many have been taught, “We’re not artists,” or “We’re not that good at creative things.” This usually isn’t the original message we were taught as kids. For most of us, when we were younger, we probably didn’t think twice about creating, making, trying, risking and participating. Watching my kids is so inspiring because I see slivers of how free I used to be creatively.

Over time, though, many of us grew older and began to edit ourselves, hold back instead of participate, evaluate and critique ourselves instead of freely sharing. Slowly, many of us became closed to creativity.

We began to take ourselves too seriously.

We began to lose our freedom.

And we get a lot of messages that say creativity is only for “artists” (as in ones who are trained in it) and that we don’t have anything to offer.

Unfortunately, many church systems we’ve been part of have directly perpetuated this kind of closed-door policy to creativity because they’ve adopted a professional, “only the good ones get to play” mentality. Often, average musicians don’t get a chance. Pretty people are the ones who sing on stage. Art shows are reserved for the talented and screened for submissions.

We’ve forgotten that the beauty that’s in each other–whether it’s deemed good enough, or not, by a man-made measuring stick–needs a place to be nurtured, a forum in which to be revealed.

Part of the downward journey is becoming people who cultivate creativityour own and also the creativity in others.

It seems like one of the most helpful ways we can begin to cultivate creativity is to quit measuring creativity as talent. We have all kinds of imaginary rules about what makes someone an artist and what doesn’t.

Here’s what I keep learning: We’re all artists. Every single human being on the planet. It just looks different for each of us. The way to call it out is to stop comparing ourselves or assume that only the best and the brightest can play.

Most of us default toward self-criticism. When challenged to do something that requires creativity, many of us tend to put a disclaimer on it—”This isn’t that good; I am not that good of an artist; mine is not nearly as good as his or hers.” You name it and we can find a way to self-deprecate! I tested this theory recently at a group experience facilitated by a friend. When she asked everyone to share their very simple pieces, the majority found ways to minimize, compare or somehow put down their work.

It’s so telling!

Shame, fear and lack of confidence invade so many our lives. It robs us of so much freedom.

The Kingdom of God is a place to break the bonds of shame, fear and lack of confidence. 

At The Refuge, our faith community, we try to cultivate a spirit of creativity in all kinds of little and big ways. We encourage people to try things they’ve wanted to try. We host open share creative nights where anyone can play. We call each other out of our creative comfort zones. Each and every time, I see the bonds of shame, fear, and low self-confidence break and God’s image reflected. Not only in others, but in me, too.

In the words of a five-year-old at one of our open share evenings, God really is heaven and art.

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My dear SheLoves friends, I’d love to hear:

  • What are you learning about the healing power of creativity these days?
  • How can you cultivate it in your own life and draw out God’s image in others, too?
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About Kathy:

Kathy Escobar co-pastors The Refuge, an eclectic faith community in North Denver dedicated to those on the margins of life and faith. She blogs regularly about life and faith at www.kathyescobar.com and just released a new book called, Down We Go–Living out the Wild Ways of Jesus in Action. She lives in Arvada, Colorado with her husband, Jose, and five kids.

 

Image credit: bhollar

I Bear Witness

“If all of us acted in unison as I act individually, there would be no wars and no poverty. I have made myself personally responsible for the fate of every human being who has come my way.” -Anais Nin 

By Desiree Adaway | Twitter: @desireeadaway

As a kid, I was told the real power of the crucifixion of Christ was not that it happened, but that there were people to bear witness to the act. People saw and were able to deliver first-hand their testimony.

I testify to change hearts and minds.

I travel the world, because I believe in the power of connection and community. I believe in the beauty of humanity and the gift of mercy. I travel to help strip bare the man-made constraints of culture and language and all the other social barriers we have created to keep us apart.

I travel so I can testify.

To deliver a testimony.

I am a connector. I help connect people, ideas, and organizations. I am a builder of community and the foundation of my building is based on the rock of social justice. As I share my thoughts on social justice and some of my personal beliefs on community, I hope, in turn, you will share your thoughts with me.

I believe God’s love for the world is an active and engaged love, a love seeking justice and liberty for all.  I believe we cannot just be observers to pain and suffering, because I believe in the inherent dignity and value of all humans. So I testify:

If my sister in Angola is not safe, then we are all responsible.

Every child that goes to bed hungry, whether across the world or up the street, is my child.

And my child deserves dignity and honor. My sister deserves to be seen, loved, acknowledged and cared for.

So I bear witness. I bear witness to confirm the right of persons and peoples to determine their own destiny and daily lives; to live in peace and security; and to flourish in freedom. We all have the right to live in a safe and secure place. Freedom is our divine right. We all should be free to move beyond past limitations and become all we were created to be.

I cannot be of service to people whom I am separate from physically or mentally. I can have no degrees of separation–we are one community. We must build and maintain our community together and make our brothers’ and sisters’ problems our problems, and to solve them together.

We must work together to conceive and build the good community, society and world we want and deserve to live in. Robert Ingersoll says we should give to every human being every right that we claim for ourselves. I could not have said it better.

In a real community, no one is invisible or unworthy. Not my child nor my sister. So I bear witness to make sure they are seen and heard.

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How about you:

  • Do you bear witness to another’s suffering? Do you testify of their struggle?
  • Do you believe that giving voice to another’s struggle promotes global freedom and community?
  • What are your thoughts on the pursuit of social justice?

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About Desiree:

Desiree is a consultant, strategist, coach, speaker, storyteller and explorer.  She uses her superpowers–her voice, sense of adventure and belief in the transformative power of community–to help organizations design programs that create unrestricted revenue, volunteers and advocates.

You can find out more about her at www.desireeadaway.com, or follow her on Twitter at @desireeadaway

 

 

Photo credit: Hands, by xlordashx

TGIF: Are You There, World? It’s Me, Tina. Without Makeup.

On Angelina Jolie’s leg, posing for Facebook pictures and exposing the “real me.”

by Tina Francis | Twitter: @teenbug
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It’s been an AWESOME week to be a woman.

Apart from the insane media coverage of Angelina Jolie’s leg at the Oscars (epic low for humanity), I have enjoyed watching women stand up and stick it to The Man.

I want to take a quick minute to say:

Source: baubauhaus.com via Tina on Pinterest

Dear Angelina,

Haters gonna hate.

I’m so sorry about the spoofs, Twitter account, “Legbombing” Pinterest page, memes and TV shows making fun of your leg.

I say this sincerely and un-ironically: it must suck to wake up every morning and hear that your leg is on the cover of yet another newspaper, when women are being raped in Congo.

Ignore these bozos. Let one of them win an Academy Award, two Screen Actors Guild Awards, three Golden Globe Awards and be named Hollywood’s highest-paid actress by Forbes; then they can talk.

Love you girl,
Teen
__________

Coming back to task at hand …

Women were such rockstars this week. They are:

  1. Speaking up.
    “Dear Oscar: Women Have Stories, Too
  2. Gathering allies.
    “Tumblr Takes Stand Against Eating Disorder Blogs”
  3. Standing up for each other.
    “Why We Should Stop Snarking On Angelina Jolie’s Thinness”
  4. Embracing their imperfections.
    “Want to be happy? Stop trying to be perfect
  5. Telling the truth.
    “My Journey with Weight Control.”

The last link is a revealing ballsy piece, written by our very own SheLoves writer, Claire De Boer.

Here’s an excerpt from her article that made me choke on my afternoon apple:

“I can’t count the number of times I have sat around a table with girlfriends, a delicious selection of mouthwatering finger foods under our noses, and listened as most of us have justified our decision to eat or not eat the food.

I went for a run today.
I didn’t eat dinner, so I can indulge.
I’ve been good all week, so I deserve a night off.
I shouldn’t … I really need to lose a few pounds.

Whatever the response, so many of us are sitting around that table justifying our decision to eat or not eat. I have never heard the same conversation around a table of men.”

Mid February (coincidentally on my birthday), another SheLoves writer, powerhouse Sarah Bessey wrote, “For Shame or Freedom?” “Shame is insidious, ” she says, “because it can sound reasonable to our own ears, but it always ends in the same place: a prison.”

She goes on to say that as women:

“…we weave a banner of love as nouns and verbs to guard and protect,
to trail-blaze, for our mothers, our daughters:
you are beautiful, you have worth, you are valuable – NOW.
I love you, I see you, I hear you, my sister.

Facebook Me vs. Real Me

Sarah’s words, “I see you,” jumped out at me. I thought about how rarely, I let people see the real me. I hate being seen. I hate been photographed. Maybe I’m extra critical because I’m a photographer. If it’s not the right angle, the right light and the right posture, I want the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

This fear is magnified with the magic of Facebook. Anyone can upload and tag a nasty picture of me with a double-chin, back-fat, eyes closed and mouth wide open. Sure, I could “untag” myself from the picture, but I’ll always know that it’s still floating out there on the scary Internet.

Like most mortals, I’m guilty of putting up a cute but not too pose-y picture of myself as a profile picture, like so:

Please note, the flattering soft light coming from my window making me look like a cast member of “Touched by an Angel.” Truth be told, I often worry that people who I “meet” on the internet, will be disappointed when they meet me in person. Alas, I can’t bottle that gorgeous light to follow me around!

I read an article this week titled, “Almost Half Of Women Don’t Like Their Faces Unless They’re Spackled With Makeup.” Dude … that just makes me sad. Spackled?!

And hey, if this is what Supermodel Kate Moss looks like without makeup and Photoshop, then why do I give myself such a hard time?

If more of us women stopped hiding behind our staged “Perfect Profile Picture,” we could start to reverse the cycle of self-hate and fear, and run wildly into the arms of love and freedom.

Some of you might remember that my One Word for 2012 is “enough.” I’m learning that I am: strong enough, smart enough, brave enough, loved enough …[squirm]even beautiful enough. Just as I am.

“We can’t look to the world to restore our worth; we’re here to restore our worth to the world. The world outside us can reflect our glory, but it cannot create it. It cannot crown us. Only God can crown us, and he already has.” — Marianne Williamson

In a moment of pure insanity I thought, if my beautiful friend Claire can be honest about how many times she has weighed herself, I can be honest about what I look like without makeup.

So this is the real me …
Glasses
Pimple on my cheek
Angry Vein on my forehead
Bags under my eyes
Ratty pajamas
No makeup.
No Photoshop.
No flattering angle.

BOOM.

Pssst … if you click on the picture, it gets even larger.

And this is (round-faced) me, after I realized that this idea was totally crazy and I was going to regret it in the morning!

Guess what? It’s morning. And, I don’t regret it!

“A tulip doesn’t strive to impress anyone. It doesn’t struggle to be different than a rose. It doesn’t have to. It is different. And there’s room in the garden for every flower. You didn’t have to struggle to make your face different than anyone else’s on earth. It just is. You are unique because you were created that way.” — Marianne Williamson

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OH-OH-OH, I have a crazy idea!!!

Dear ones, I (lovingly) dare you to take a picture of yourself without makeup and:

a. Post it on our SheLoves Facebook page.
b. Share it on Twitter. You can copy/paste this tweet:
“Hey World! It’s Me, _____[insert name]. Without Makeup. #iamenough [insert picture]
c. Or “Pin it” on Pinterest. #iamenough

Gleep! I’m so excited. I would seriously love to see your beautiful faces, just as you are.

Together we can define a new standard for beauty; one that celebrates our curves, stretchmarks, scary veins, wrinkles and laugh lines.

Love you more than Ginger Grapefruit Curd,
xoxo,
Teen

To read more TGIFs from Tina: Click here.

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My name is Tina. Loved ones call me: Teen.

Words are my chocolate. Music, my caramel. Photography, my bread. Girlfriends, my butter.

Confession: Some girls dream about Manolo Blahniks or their next Hermes bag. Not me. I dream of freshly baked bread, perfectly barbecued meat & steaming bowls of Pho. My dream lover *cue Mariah Carey song* is someone who would read out a menu to me in Barry White’s baritone voice.

I celebrate food, ask for help, interrupt conversations, laugh and cry hard, acknowledge the elephant in most rooms, fight for the underdog and believe in the power of storytelling.

My word for the year is “leap.” If something scares me, I do it.

I was born and raised in Dubai and currently live in the beautiful city of Vancouver, known for some of the best sushi in the world.

What Does Running a Half-Marathon with Your Sisters Look Like?

On hugs, sweat ‘n tears.

Photos by Brandi-Lee Doucette and friends | Twitter: @brandilee1
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It’s hard to put into words what we (38 women + Josh) accomplished yesterday. It’s hard to give expression to the strength and camaraderie we saw yesterday as we supported and suffered (yes, it was hard) on behalf of our sisters in Northern Uganda. Stiff knees, sore hamstrings, purple toes and seizing hips seem insignificant compared to what some of our sisters have endured. We are laughing and crying, because yesterday “the good guys” won for a change.

Thirty-eighty women in our world have come alive. Our Facebook newsfeed is proof of that. There is a steady stream of “likes,” notes, comments, pictures, tweets and emails flying around. Our friends and family have rallied so beautifully around this cause—there’s something about a company of women rising up to be the change that sets hearts ablaze and moves others to mobilize too.

We hope these pictures communicate some of the very big emotion of our day.

We love you more than carbo-loading before race day,
xoxo
Teen + Idelette








TGIF: How a Cardboard Pirate Ship Helped Me Realize That My Life Had Come Full Circle

On ship wrecks, half-chicken/half-mermaids and the best Wednesday of my life.


by Tina Francis | Twitter: @teenbug
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“I need ten Pirate Paks now!” she yelled, “Birthday party. Section 6.”

The “Pirate Pak” was the restaurant’s version of a McDonald’s Happy Meal. Kids were served their burgers, fries, drink and ice cream in a paper boat. Pretty novel concept.

“Ten cardboard pirate ships coming right up!” I answered.

How hard could it be?

I’d only been working at the restaurant for a month. I’d left my cushy job as a TV Producer when I moved from Dubai to Vancouver. I spent my first three months back in Canada trying to find the ever-elusive “media gig.” I found myself stuck in a weird work purgatory, “overqualified” for entry level jobs and “under-qualified” for my dream job.

Full disclosure: I only got the job at the restaurant because my dad talked to a family friend, who put in a good word for me with his buddy, the manager of the restaurant.

Pathetic. I know.

After 6 years of school, countless sleepless nights of writing papers and preparing for presentations, thousands accumulated in student loans and a killer resume of substantial industry experience, I needed my dad to help me find a job. *face-palm* You can imagine the thoughts going through my head, as I wrestled with the nautical-themed cardboard.

Where did I go wrong? Maybe I should’ve studied Business like Dad insisted? Is this as good as it gets?

I had a distorted romantic notion of what working at a restaurant would look like. I thought that I would be the quintessential charming quirky server, who greeted her patrons by name, armed with a notepad and a yellow pencil tucked in her loosely tussled ponytail. Zooey Deschanel would play me in the movie.

Reality was far from it. I’d never felt this inept at anything before. I spilled coffee, couldn’t balance a tray to save my life and even messed up requests for water. Wait … was it extra ice and no lemon? Or was it no ice with extra lemon?  I was a mess.

My thoughts were interrupted by the same voice who barked the order 5 mins earlier, “What?! You’ve only assembled two boxes?!” I wanted to say, “Well  technically three … but the mast ripped when I tried to stick a straw through the hole…” She was furious. There was no way I was going to fess up now.

She grabbed the flaccid paper boat from my hands and said, “Forget it. I’ll do it myself. It’s not rocket science! How hard is it to fold cardboard? Cheezus!”

The kitchen was quiet for a second. All eyes on me. I walked out of the kitchen, head down, tears of humiliation streaming down my face.

Life = 1, Tina = 0

What I didn’t know then, was that things were about to go downhill really fast. The next couple of years were a comedy of errors. I had been in three car accidents, lost two phones, my hard drive crashed, my “serious” long distance boyfriend cheated on me, a string of short-lived jobs where I was overworked and underpaid, my bank account hovered around the $10 to $100 mark and life looked bleak.

During this time, my close friends said what close friends are supposed to say:
- This too shall pass.
- Time will heal.
- There is light at the end of the tunnel.

I thought to myself, “Maybe resilient people with iron-will and decent self-worth will survive. But not me… no way. I was going to drown.”

Fast Forward: 5 years

Wednesday, August 17th 2011

10:00 am- Big fat check from the lawyer for my car accident.
11:00 am- Trip to the bank to deposit check and to pay off credit card, loans and all miscellaneous outstanding amounts.
12:00 am- My (fully paid for) brand new camera was ready for pick up!
12:30 am- Lunch with my gfs in the sunshine.

I want you to take a closer look at picture.

A Pirate Pak? Once a year White Spot  sells their Pirate Paks to adults and $2 from every Pak goes to a summer camp for sick kids. My colleague heard about it and thought it would be a fun idea for lunch.

What are the odds that I would be eating out of the infamous paper boat that reduced me to tears, the very SAME day that all the madness from the last 5 years gets resolved?

I never thought that a half-chicken/half-mermaid on a cardboard ship would make my heart smile this big. This was one of my life’s tremendously intoxicating private-yippee moments!

Life had come full circle. Hallelujah!

I don’t remember the conversation from lunch or my burger. But I do remember, floating out of my body, looking down at myself and thinking, “Tina, you lucky schmuck, you’re finally out of the tunnel! And there’s glorious, blinding  light all around you!”

Job? Check. Camera? Check. Car? Check. Phone? Check. No crazy bf? Check. Debt-free? Check. Sanity? Check.

My shipwrecked soul was finally safely back in the harbour.

Life = 0, Tina = 1.

For those who are caught up in the storm of life right now, I promise you…
- This too shall pass.
- Time will heal.
- There is light at the end of the tunnel.

Waving from the other side of the tunnel,
Teen
xox

“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swaps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists … it is real … it is possible … it’s yours.” -Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

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Here are 5 things that made me smile this week:

The Help + A-frame Cabin + Rinah + Dennis Rodman + Jill Scott= TGIF!

1. I’d finished a conference call, long run and a photoshoot on Sunday when I got a well-timed text from my gf Ashley that read, “Whatcha doing?” Sharing buttery popcorn and watching the film adaptation of Kathryn Stockett’s book “The Help” was exactly what I needed before the start of another work week. Having said that, I have to admit there were tears. Lots of them. The whole issue of race really gets under my skin. Luckily, the movie ends on a positive note but I still left with a tender heart.

As the credits started rolling, I put my head on my Ashley’s shoulder and said, “I don’t have a bf, so you will have to do!” We both burst out laughing. You know the kind of laugh where your stomach and jaw hurt? Yeah, that kind.

2. Remember when you were a kid and your teacher would tell you to draw a house? My picture of a house always started with the letter ‘A.’ I adore A-frame houses. William O’Brien Jr. designed this beauty in 2009. I like the contrast of the contemporary style cabin against nature. High ceilings, light pouring in through large windows, books lining walls, minimalist furniture… What’s not to love? See more pictures here. 



3. Andrew and Carissa who live in Arlington, Virgina are photographers who are in the process of adopting a little girl “Rinah” from Uganda. You can watch their adoption story here. Here is the cutest video of little Rinah and her friends dancing. I guarantee that this video will make you smile. If it doesn’t … I’ll give you $1.50 and a Tic-Tac.

4. I spend a lot of time over on The Good Men Project these days, and that’s how I stumbled on this video of Dennis Rodman’s emotional Hall of Fame acceptance speech. One word: Raw. It’s rare to see a man, any man, let alone a celebrity get this vulnerable before an audience. Rodman apologizes for not being a better father, son and husband. He also, thanks the men that “saved” his life. This next sentence absolutely wrecked me, “He’s the only man who’s ever cried for me.” Totally worth 10 minutes of your time. Highlights: 3:20, 5:25, 8:35, 10:10 and 11:42. So powerful.

5. We all have a song that puts an umph in our step, even on the crappiest day. Jill Scott’s ‘Golden’ has always had that effect on me.

I love the lyrics!

“I’m taking my freedom, pulling it off the shelf,
Putting it on my chain, wear it around my neck,
I’m taking my freedom, putting it in my car,
Wherever I choose to go, it will take me far.”

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So my SheLoves peeps:

- Is your heart shipwrecked at the moment? Are you struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel? Talking about it always makes me feel better. I’m here if you need me to listen or pray. *squeezes hand*

Or…

- Perhaps your ship is safely back in it’s harbour? I’d love to hear about your “tremendously intoxicating private-yippee moment.” What got you through the tough times? What was your “Pirate Pak” moment?

Love you more than a bowlful of  Strawberry, Basil & Balsamic Frozen Yogurt, (<- Recipe)
xoxo,
Teen

To read more TGIFs from Tina: Click here.
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SheLoves Half-Marathon for Living Hope
- How it all got started? Read the story: HERE
- Donate: HERE
- Facebook Event Page: HERE
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About: My name is Tina. Loved ones call me: Teen. I am drawn to all that is fresh, spontaneous and creative.

Confession: Some girls dream about Manolo Blahniks or their next Hermes bag. Not me. I dream of freshly baked bread, perfectly barbecued meat & steaming bowls of Pho. My dream lover *cue Mariah Carey song* is someone who would read out a menu to me in Barry White’s baritone voice. ha.ha. Everything about food makes my toes curl. The only thing that excites me more than eating food is beautiful pictures of food.

I was born and raised in Dubai and currently live in the beautiful city of Vancouver, known for some of the best sushi in the world.

I enjoy taking pictures.

Women’s Worlds 2011

Advocating for equality as a unified voice at the International Women’s World Conference held in Ottawa

By Trisha Baptie | Twitter: @trisha_baptie
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There’s a funny rumor going around that it is summer. For those of us living in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, it is easy to understand why this seems like a cruel joke. After just getting back from Ottawa, I can tell you: I appreciate it!

Why would anyone go to Ottawa the first week of July, with that gosh dang horrible humidity? To hang out with 2,000 other women from 92 different countries is why! I was at the International Women’s World conference . I will warn you now this article is saturated with hyperlinks. I would encourage you to have a look at all of them–there’s a wealth of knowledge in them.

I think award-winning throat singer Tanya Tagaq said it best in the opening ceremony: “I was wondering if I was nervous or if I was exhilarated because I feel so safe. I am safe here with you guys right now” (WATCH THIS: Her singing at the end is nothing short of otherworldly beauty; in video at 1:50min)

Safe.

Here, with you women. Safe, because of who is not here.

Men.

Not a judgement, a truth. A lived reality. Listen to the story she tells in the video. Safe was not something I felt often, and it became the common theme of the conference.

I have taught my son it’s about perspective. When he and his friends are at a bus stop and there is a girl walking toward them–even if he knows he would not harm her, nor would his friends–she does not. She is taught from birth that groups of men are dangerous. So my son and his friends create a safe world by moving back from where she has to walk. Always look at her perspective, I tell him.

May my son be a man who lives life profoundly aware of the space he takes up in the world and what he can do to make women feel safer in it.

A friend and ally Erin Graham submitted a panel discussion that was accepted (Title: From Harm Reduction To Liberation: Feminist Alternatives) so I was a part of that amazing panel, as well as being a part again ( I was a part of the first Fleshmapping in 2008) for three days of the amazing dialogue that happened around the table with global women leaders like Sigma Huda, Lee Lakeman, the feisty and funny Youngsook Cho from Korea. There was wise and passionately anti-militarization Suzuyo Takazato from Okinawa, Teresa Ulloa Ziaurriz from Mexico and Clorinde Zéphir from Haiti. The list is a veritable who’s who of global feminists who have made lasting impacts and contributions to women’s equality and naming and challenging patriarchy.

What did I learn?

This struggle is a global struggle with solutions that look different from region to region but also looks similar globally.

Somehow, some way, men actually have to be held accountable for their actions.

Women are beautifully resilient. No matter what our circumstances, we can truly bring out the best in each other.

What killed me to learn (although it wasn’t a totally new analysis) was that the church/religion is patriarchy’s greatest weapon and is used globally to oppress, marginalize and undermine women’s equality. This was sad for me to hear. In fact, it is my biggest struggle right now.

How do I undo my love for God, for Jesus, from the tyranny of patriarchy?

I am made in God’s image, so why would men use the God who made me, to oppress, saying women are less than them? A brilliant woman from Africa also said about the Church (church, Christians, Catholics, Missionaries, etc are all all referred to as the big “C” Church): We do not want your stuff (meaning the things westerners take to Africa to give out). We want you to come here, empower US, listen to US and OUR ways of doing things. Stand beside US and CHANGE things.

Isn’t that what God wants us to do? Fight powers and principalities? Shouldn’t we just stop doing business with warlords, er, diamond sellers until they are produced ethically? I say this as an Apple user; shouldn’t we not buy new electronic gadgets until the minerals needed for them can be mined safely?

I know, I know, I’m simple, seems to make sense though.

Of course it’s that whole Western world standard of living and comfort thing, not rocking the boat and Capitalism being the ultimate destroyer of not only our earth but of human rights and our responsibilities to one another thing.

My God, what has happened to your message of love? To love our neighbours as ourselves?
Some of my dear friends–allies and women I have learned many wise things from–would say until we abolish religion we will never have freedom. The big “we.” Humanity “we.”

I agree.

BUT we must keep faith.

Keep relationship with Creator. I often ponder how do we mere mortals tell the story of a God so loving, so compassionate, so kind? How do we explain that it is not God that does these atrocities but rather man (man as in humanity here, not just men), we all have free will, we demand it. How someone uses that though can have dire lifelong or life taking consequences for another, but that is not God.

I’ve said to God, “Uh, I’m not one to tell you what to do, but I am fairly sure we are some of the worst PR people you could have created”. But then, I hear beautiful stories that come out of the rubble DEMANDING to be heard, and I hear Jesus. In the words of Arundhati Roy:

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day I can hear her breathing.”

I think women will lead change, for we look at the world very differently. Women have suffered since the beginning of time under patriarchy and you cannot tell me that was God’s divine plan. Women (or at least this one, and most feminists I know) do not want to rule, do not want to switch places with our oppressors. We want equality.

Simply put: we want to feel safe with men in the room.
____________________________________________________________

About Trisha
Trisha Baptie is Executive Director of Honour Consulting and founding member of EVE (formerly Exploited Voices now Educating). In 2008 she won BC’s Courage to Come Back Award for her bravery in transitioning to a healthier lifestyle, for giving the murdered women of Vancouver a voice through her trial coverage of Vancouver’s serial killer and for her ongoing activism. Follow Trisha’s tweets at @trisha_baptie or friend her on facebook. She recently founded EVE (formerly Exploited Voices Now Educating.)

TGIF: Why is Beyonce Giving Me Mixed Signals?

On skytrain journalism, sanitary pads and the real face of dignity.


by Tina Francis | Twitter: @teenbug
_________________________________________________________________

I don’t typically brood over words like “dignity” while chomping on a piece of toast on a Thursday morning. I’m usually preoccupied with trying to make decisions like, “Can I get away with not washing my hair today?” or “How long can I sit on Facebook before I’m officially late for work?”

This week, however, was different. I came face-to-face with the stark reality that dignity is:
- A vague concept.
- A scarce commodity.

Allow me to illustrate my point by going over my week.

Monday: I spot this guy on the Skytrain. The repressed journalist in me just HAD to take a picture of his hoodie.

It’s a little hard to read in the picture because I was trying to be discreet. His hoodie says, “Chicks should come in six packs.” The infamous mudflap girl imprinted on each can. Pun intended.

The feminist in me was appalled. For the record: I’m not anti-men. I’m just pro-women.

Tuesday: I read this really great article: “MILFs and Happy Endings” (You should read it too.)

“Was it just me, or was I being bullied, along with everyone else, into having to accept porn’s invasion into everyday life with its coarseness as the new norm?”- Lili Bee

Wednesday: I sat across from this guy…

“My parts are the best,” his T-shirt reads. TMI … but I’ll take your word for it kind sir. On closer inspection, it’s mudflap girl again! Only this time she’s on her knees. I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt but I’m guessing she’s not changing the tires.

How does a woman living in today’s world define “dignity” when the media tells us we are most appreciated on our knees, half-dressed, preferably in front of an automobile.

Don’t believe me? Take Beyonce’s music video “Run the World” for example. Ms. Knowles is singing about female empowerment on all fours in front of a car. Look at the similarities between the T-shirt and the video.

Car? Check. Mudflap girl? Check. Girl power? I don’t think so. Talk about sending mixed signals.

I really don’t want this to sound Anti-Beyonce because I love the girl. She can sing, dance and is a successful business woman. What’s not to love? It just bothers me that the music video for a song about girl power is communicating a conflicting message.

Why aren’t there more T-shirts emblazoned with the faces of Rosa Parks, Madeleine Albright and Margaret Atwood? I’d wear that!

Thursday: As you can imagine I was feeling pretty deflated by this point. The overly sexualized imagery and language surrounding my gender was depressing.

In an effort to cheer myself up I was browsing through the Living Hope website on my lunch break. Readers who have been following SheLoves regularly know that a group of 50 women in Vancouver are running a Half-Marathon on September 25th to raise money for the Living Hope Program that aids women in northern Uganda.

Looking through the photos on the website, I saw a true picture of dignity. I saw women with deep-rooted self-worth, effortless grace, resourceful spirit, fervent courage and untainted joy.

This is the kind of “girl power” that appeals to me. I’m tired of the in-your-face, skin-baring, swearing-like-a-sailor, overly sexual, middle-finger showing, aggressive, violent, catty, condescending “girl power” the media advertises. It’s a cop-out. It’s counterfeit.

True girl power is someone who forgives the unforgivable, loves the unlovable and dares to show up for life even at the risk of getting hurt in the process.

“What should move us to action is human dignity: the inalienable dignity of the oppressed, but also the dignity of each of us. We lose dignity if we tolerate the intolerable.”Dominique De Menil

The Intolerable: Abducted, gang-raped, infected with AIDS, left for dead, mutilated, forgotten, beaten, disfigured, shunned from society and sold as sex slaves.

“Restoring dignity” is the mandate of the Living Hope program that supports the women of northern Uganda. These women have suffered the intolerableand are rising up from the ashes, daring to rewrite their story.

That to me is real “dignity.”

Real women with real dignity

This is the glee-inducing portion of this post. The Living Hope Training Center provides vocational training and helps the women generate projects with the help of micro-finance loans.

The key to restoring their sense of dignity is training and equipping them with skill sets so they can integrate back into their communities as valued contributing members of society.

Here’s a peek into the Living Hope Training Centre in Gulu:

1. Sewing Workshops

2. Making Honey

3. I was saving the best for last, a brilliant initiative called “MAKAPADS.”

According to UNICEF, approximately 1 in 10 African girls will skip school during menstruation because they fear being ridiculed or stigmatized. Rural schools don’t usually have proper toilet facilities or water and girls can’t afford sanitary pads. Often times they have to resort to unsanitary alternatives like leaves or cloth. This is the crucial juncture where many girls drop out of school.

The Living Hope ladies in Gulu have been part of an initiative that provides affordable sanitary pads, called Makapads made mainly of papyrus reeds and almost entirely of local materials. It is exciting because, not only is this a skills development opportunity, but the ladies also get to be a part of an initiative that is giving a new generation of girls the opportunity to remain in school.

The finished product is pretty impressive if you ask me!

“Our ladies are not a drama of victimization; they are a story of empowerment that transforms formerly abducted little girls into successful businesswomen.”- Marilyn Skinner, Founder of Watoto – Living Hope

Transforming abducted girls into successful business women?!

Hello? I love that.

“All labor that uplifts humanity has dignity and importance and should be undertaken with painstaking excellence.”
- Martin Luther King, Jr.

______________________________________________________

I’ve been running to Rachel Platten’s album Be Here” this week. It’s upbeat without being preachy. The video below is a live recording of her song “Nothing Ever Happens.” Enjoy!

“Nothing ever happens if you stay in your room
Nothing ever happens if you leave the party too soon
Never be a winner if you’re not in the game
Nothing ever happens if you always play it safe
So, make a little space and get out of your own way.”

______________________________________________________

So … my global SheLoves sisters:
- Does the portrayal of women in media affect you on a personal level?
- Any stories or anecdotes that you’d like to share in lieu of this post?
- What is your definition of dignity?

Dear SheLoves Half-Marathon Bravehearts,
- Many of you have had milestone runs this past week, how are you feeling about the Half-Marathon now? Is the end in sight?
- How are your fundraising efforts going? I’d love to hear about how you’ve been spreading awareness. Mailouts, phonecalls, meetings over coffee, email, etc?

Share-share! :)

Love you more than Almond Herb Tarts with Dandelion Pesto, Truffled Fontina & Figs , (<- Recipe)
xoxo,
Teen

To read more TGIFs from Tina: Click here.

(Images of Living Hope Centre courtesy Watoto)

______________________________________________________

SheLoves Half-Marathon for Living Hope
- How it all got started? Read the story: HERE
- Donate: HERE
- Facebook Event Page: HERE
______________________________________________________


About: My name is Tina. Loved ones call me: Teen. I am drawn to all that is fresh, spontaneous and creative.

Confession: Some girls dream about Manolo Blahniks or their next Hermes bag. Not me. I dream of freshly baked bread, perfectly barbecued meat & steaming bowls of Pho. My dream lover *cue Mariah Carey song* is someone who would read out a menu to me in Barry White’s baritone voice. ha.ha. Everything about food makes my toes curl. The only thing that excites me more than eating food is beautiful pictures of food.

I was born and raised in Dubai and currently live in the beautiful city of Vancouver, known for some of the best sushi in the world.

I enjoy taking pictures.

TGIF: The Yellow T-Shirt that Taught Me to Love my Thunder Thighs

On Running, High School Horror Stories and Being “The Funny One.”


by Tina Francis | Twitter: @teenbug
____________________________________________________________

They called me “Thunder Thighs” and said I ran like a duck.

“They” were my teachers, family and friends.

The “Funny One”

Remember, October 1998?

Britney Spears’ iconic music video as a midriff-baring Catholic high school student with knee-high socks had taken the world by storm.

In a high school far-far away on the opposite side of the world (Dubai), I, too, was sporting knee-high socks. Sans: Posse of gyrating, synchronized dancers in dangerously short skirts marching through the hallway.

No, Sir. I was participating in a public speaking competition with some of the best speakers from my grade. Each girl had to memorize and deliver a five-minute speech without flashcards. The competition was tight.

One of the girls was doing an excerpt from Gandhi’s famous speeches and another something equally noble, like a brief history on Mother Theresa’s life.

I, on the other hand, had chosen to write my own piece that year. A candid story about tearing my ligament with amusing, glorious, self-deprecating detail. It was terribly risky pitting my “Dear Diary” teen drivel against the words of political enigma Gandhi. Who does that? Still, I hoped the panel of judges would consider me a worthy contender on the basis of authenticity.

When I finished my piece, I knew I’d nailed it. There’s nothing sweeter and more reassuring than a crowd erupting into laughter after you deliver the punchline of a joke. I could feel it in my bones. I was going to win.

Minutes later it was official. I’d won first place and the auditorium burst into applause. My friends stood up from their chairs clapping, whistling and cheering wildly. It was one of those perfect life moments where everything goes into slow-motion.

My classmates and juniors surrounded me for congratulatory high-fives and hugs. From the corner of my eye, I noticed one of my girlfriends was trying to make her way through the swarm of students. I navigated my way towards her with a big goofy smile.

She clutched her stomach, keeled over laughing and said: “You know how you look big in real life? Man! You look even BIGGER on stage!” [spreads arms wide open]

<insert glass shattering>

My face fell flat like a big ol’ scoop of Rocky Road ice cream onto the hot summer sidewalk. Splat! I made a feeble attempt at laughing along with her as I awkwardly tucked a chunk of my unstyled, frizzy hair behind my ears.

Once the initial shock wore off, for reasons beyond me, I started laughing hysterically. The universe had seen my gleeful state and immediately diffused it with a mean-spirited Booyah! I guess … it was funny. If you find making babies cry and kicking puppies funny …

“You look big in real life….
[echo: big in real life ... big in real life ... big in real life]
But you look even BIGGER on stage.”
[echo: BIGGER on stage...BIGGER on stage...BIGGER on stage...]

Later that night, I remember cupping my round face in my palms as I soaped myself in the shower. She’s right. I don’t have any cheekbones. Then as I proceeded to soap my curvy hips and thick thighs I thought, “Yikes. My thighs are HUGE. Especially from this angle.”

When I stepped out of the shower I looked at myself in the foggy mirror. I sucked in my cheeks and pinched the back of my non-existent triceps to see what I would look if I were skinny.

With concave cheeks and makeshift plastic surgery on my arm fat, I looked in the mirror and said the first line of my winning speech.

Wow …

I look like an idiot. Not hot.

I’ll just have to be the “funny one.”

____________________________________________________________

“To succeed in life, you need three things:  a wishbone, a backbone and a funnybone.”  – Reba McEntire
____________________________________________________________

Thirteen Years Later

My eyes flutter open to the familiar refrain of the Marimba ringtone on my iPhone. Clumsy fingers hastily enter the wrong passcode in an effort to silence the wailing alarm clock upsetting the delicate hush of a Saturday morning. I pry loose the arm pinned under my soft supple stomach and push the hair away from my face.

“Some day a man will push the hair out of my face,“ I think to myself. Tickled by this surprising romantic sentiment, (eyes still closed) my face breaks into a smile. Oh …silly Tina! The newly rescued arm reaches up for the cool-tiled window ledge with the grace of an elephant trunk trying to grasp a tiny teacup in the dark. The hand knocks over some books, a water bottle and a hair clip before retrieving my glasses.

Freshly bespectacled and with no hair marring my vision, I glance up at the ceiling. Irridescent pearly pink light. Mmmm. I smile again. I arch my back, elongate my arms and legs and go into a long delicious stretch that lasts a minute.

“It’s a beautiful day for a run!” I announce as I leap out of bed.

The Yellow T-shirt

For most of my high school years, I wore clothes three times my actual size. An open-heart surgery of my wardrobe would have revealed five oversized men’s plaid shirts and four pairs of knee-length shorts in an assortment of colours: black, navy, beige and denim. I wore knock-off Dr. Martens and the whole ensemble screamed, Overweight Kurt Cobain-wannabe. 

Somewhere along the way I bloomed in a woman, but in the back corners of my mind I’m still that girl who thinks she is “even BIGGER on stage.” So I shirk away from displaying the curves of my body. I don’t wear anything sleeveless or short. I can’t even wear cap-sleeves without my skin crawling.

This can prove to be quite the predicament when you are training for a half-marathon in the summer.

For the most part my running gear reflects my 12th grade wardrobe: giant tent-sized shirts with running capris.

But not this Saturday morning. I was feeling good about myself. I was happy. I looked down at my thighs and thought, “Six kilometers and counting, Baby! Let’s show ‘em what we’re made of, Thunder Thighs.”

I slipped into a fitted yellow T-shirt and smiled at the reflection in the mirror.

[deep breath +  slow exhale]

Baby steps.
______________________________________________________

“Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent.” 
– Eleanor Roosevelt
______________________________________________________

Love these girls singing a cover of Pink’s song. **clean version**

“Pretty, pretty please
Don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than perfect.”
______________________________________________________

So … my global SheLoves sisters:
- How have your insecurities stopped you from fulfilling your destiny?

Dear SheLoves Half-Marathon Bravehearts,
- What preconceived notions have stopped you from running in the past?
- How has running affected your self-image? How do you feel now?

Positive or negative, I want to hear your thoughts! Share-share, please. :)

Love you more than Upside-down Banana Toffee Cake, (<- Recipe)
xoxo,
Teen

To read more TGIFs from Tina: Click here.

(Image: Superhero from Pinterest)

______________________________________________________

SheLoves Half-Marathon for Living Hope
- How it all got started? To read the story: CLICK HERE
- Donate: CLICK HERE
- Facebook Event Page: CLICK HERE
______________________________________________________


About: My name is Tina. Loved ones call me: Teen. I am drawn to all that is fresh, spontaneous and creative.

Confession: Some girls dream about Manolo Blahniks or their next Hermes bag. Not me. I dream of freshly baked bread, perfectly barbecued meat & steaming bowls of Pho. My dream lover *cue Mariah Carey song* is someone who would read out a menu to me in Barry White’s baritone voice. ha.ha. Everything about food makes my toes curl. The only thing that excites me more than eating food is beautiful pictures of food.

I was born and raised in Dubai and currently live in the beautiful city of Vancouver, known for some of the best sushi in the world.

I enjoy taking pictures.



Depression: Asking for Help

Signs and symptoms of Depression. Plus: what it’s like to be a woman of faith and struggling.

By Natasha Files | Twitter: @natashafiles

Depression is a horrible illness to endure. Firstly, because it is hard for others to understand the severity if they have not felt it for themselves (it’s not like a big broken bone with swelling that’s obviously painful). Secondly, because seeking recovery means pushing through a heavy cloud which often feels impossible to move.

Faith & Depression

Personally struggling with depression in the Christian world led me to add a few more hurdles to my already-full list. Not only did I feel guilty for being constantly fatigued and apathetic, but I also felt like I needed to “get over myself and pray harder so that my salvation wasn’t for nothing.” Just because I was depressed didn’t mean that I had completely forgotten about my Creator and destiny (but I was beating myself up for not being on point with my 5-year-plan)! Unfortunately, I was seeing everything through dark glasses that manipulated Truth into shame. After wrestling around the same mountain for what felt like years, I eventually learned that:

a) it was OK to admit that I was NOT OK (it’s easier to receive direction from the Lord when we admit to Him that we are lost.)
b) it was perfectly healthy to ask for support from friends and family
c) seeking medical help was not a sin (I fought this one for a long time and know there are various opinions out there. In my personal journey medication was needed for a certain amount of time. I am grateful for it and know I was better able to seek the Lord once I was in a less destructive place)
d) healing was not a one-stop destination, but a journey that took time (gotta build that strong foundation before rushing to build the house)

No One Size Fits All

Depression presents differently depending on the individual who is suffering. It is not a “one-size-fits-all” illness and has unique patterns of symptoms depending on the gender and person. Research shows that clinical depression (called Major Depressive Disorder in the DSM-IV-TR) affects twice as many women as men and is most common in ages 25-44 years. With severity being on a continuum, some individuals have a single episode while others may have reoccurring episodes; treatments range from support and/or short-term therapy to medication and/or hospitalization.

Signs & Symptoms

As mentioned above, depression will have varying signs and symptoms depending on the individual who is suffering, but the DSM-IV-TR outlines some of the general ones:
- depressed or irritable mood
- significant decrease in level of interest or pleasure in most or all activities
- considerable loss or gain of weight; increase or decrease in appetite
- difficulty falling or staying asleep, or sleeping more than usual
- slowed or agitated behaviour
- fatigued or diminished energy
- reduced ability to think, concentrate or make decisions
- thoughts of worthlessness or extreme guilt (unrelated to an illness)
- frequent thoughts of death or suicide (may or may not have a plan)

Depressionhurts.ca offers an online checklist with various other symptoms including unexplained aches and pains. Go here to launch the symptom checklist.

While I was searching for freedom from depression, a particular scripture helped me understand that the fight was not just with my brain chemistry, but also with things that are not of this world. As mentioned last week, our thoughts and beliefs can shape our actions. Choosing to meditate on Truth is one way to feed and strengthen our spirit!

Ephesians 6:10-13 speaks of a fight that is not just against flesh and blood, but also of the “principalities, powers, and against the rulers of darkness…” It was while reading this passage that I understood the power of my choice to fight. Yes, God heals, and yes, there are amazing psychiatrists, therapies and medications available to help lighten the journey, but it is a choice to walk down the path to freedom. We can allow ourselves to live in depression or we can choose to step forward. For some people a step may be sending an e-mail and asking for help or booking an appointment with a doctor. No judgment; it’s about being real with where we are at and trusting there can always be a step forward.

Some resources to support the recovery journey:

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Also catch last week’s column & resources: Dealing with Depression

About Natasha:
Natasha Files is Case Manager with a Mental Health and Addictions Team. She has experience working with youth and adults struggling with a variety of life-controlling issues and she specializes in eating disorders. Natasha’s passion for mental wellness began when she personally experienced the impact of a genuinely caring professional. That passion is paired with a love of espresso, only to be overshadowed by her desire to see women set free from life-controlling issues.

 

 

 

Image credit: © Tatiana Morozova | Dreamstime.com

 

Dealing with Defenses

Looking objectively at the most common ways we deal with discomfort. *Squirm*

By Natasha Files | Twitter: @natashafiles

I’d be the first to admit that emotional discomfort is hard. I have, in the past, been known to do just about anything to protect myself from painful feelings. Defenses can save us from these uncomfortable short-term experiences, but in the long term, they simply aid us in avoiding reality.

Thinking back to a painful and uncomfortable situation last year, I can now identify the mechanisms I used to cope:

-Denial: At first I was in denial, choosing not to embrace the truth and doing just about anything to avoid reality. Initially, denial was the easiest way to deal because it meant I could continue living without acknowledging the news.

-Intellectualizing: As the denial began to wear off, I transitioned into intellectualizing in order to non-emotionally deconstruct the situation. I can remember doing research and journaling about everything to do with the situation, except my reaction.

-Projection: Once I had theorized myself into exhaustion, I decided to project my newfound anger onto the “cause” of the crisis. I was angry and found numerous reasons why a certain individual was to blame for my loss. I could not conceptualize the possibility that my previous choices played a part.

-Sublimation: Once my anger calmed I tried to scrunch my emotions into healthy outlets. Instead of sending nasty emails I chose to paint pictures about my feelings. I discovered places where my emotions were welcomed and translated “acceptable” actions.

-Humor: As I continued walking in the situation, I noticed myself using humor as a way to cope. It helped me acknowledge the painful blow without adding destruction to the slowly healing wound.

-Repression: I had days where I chose not to think about it and forced it out of my mind and heart.

-Reaction Formation: Other moments I swung the pendulum and overcompensated by being extremely sweet and nice to the individual who had hurt me.

I can understand why these defense mechanisms worked. My soul was trying to process the hurt and, on its own, was willing to do anything it took to avoid further pain. It eventually came to a point where I needed to weigh the costs and benefits of continuing to cope with the above mechanisms. Once I recognized them, I could see where they popped up in everyday situations. They help me avoid the real issues, and although helpful at staying comfortable, long-term they have yet to point me in the direction of freedom.

Looking back I can identify exactly where the healing began. It wasn’t when I used my defenses, but when I recognized my need for healing. I found friends I trusted who patiently listened and prayed with me while I processed. Journaling and worship also helped because it gave me a chance to be completely raw with God and myself.

  • What are your defense mechanisms and what are they helping you avoid?
  • What are some healthy ways that help you overcome obstacles?

About Natasha
Natasha Files is Case Manager with a Mental Health and Addictions Team. She has experience working with youth and adults struggling with a variety of life-controlling issues and she specializes in eating disorders. Natasha’s passion for mental wellness began when she personally experienced the impact of a genuinely caring professional. That passion is paired with a love of espresso, only to be overshadowed by her desire to see women set free from life-controlling issues.

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