the reason i threw my magazines into the wastebasket

I really need to be writing my English exam right now (it's the dreaded Exam Week, y'all #how #why #saveme), but something is on my heart so I'm going to pause and share it:

Body image.

Before you roll your eyes and dismiss me as Just Another Young Woman Blogging About Inner Beauty, hear me out. Interestingly enough, what I want to tell you comes from a conversation I had with my Dad.

That's right, folks. This little guy is my father. Good old Pops.

Also, if you're thinking that this photo explains a lot about 

my particular eccentricities, that's because it does.

I DIGRESS.

You may or may not know that body image is something I struggle with, and have combated for what feels like a while now. I'm not going to say much about that other than it's a very self-centered kind of sin, one that makes me focus only on myself and my perceived flaws. It's a good tactic of the devil's to keep me always obsessed with self. 

How could I possibly find my true worth in Christ if I'm always worried about my weight? How can I change the world if my biggest goal in life is to be thin?

The Story: The other day I was eating lunch whilst perusing a stack of Teen Vogue magazines.

The Bit of Backstory: I used to really like Teen Vogue, not because I have any actual interest in high-end fashion (please) but because I love photography, design, and the cover stories were amusing enough. But when I went away to Bible college, I felt the Lord pulling on my heart to rip them up. I treasure my magazines, so that was tough, but with God's strength, I did it. I realized that the images I was putting in front of my eyes were harmful, damaging to me. They were helping me set unattainable standards for myself without my half-realizing it.

Sound familiar?

Anyways, over the past month, I picked up a copy (or four) of the magazine from the library discount store. I wanted something to read, as I no longer have any magazine subscriptions, and I apparently love to re-learn hard lessons. *sigh*

My Dad noticed me reading them the other day, albeit a bit skeptically.
And then today, he asked me to show him the issue with Emma Roberts he had noticed earlier.

Here are some images from that issue:

Note: I'm not skinny-shaming (oh gosh) or hating on anybody who naturally has this body type; I just know that for a 22 year old woman with my own frame, it is wildly unattainable.

My father, in all his "old-man" glory, is so full of wisdom. I'm so grateful to God that I have a Dad who is willing to call me out and speak truth into my life. We had an honest conversation about how unhealthy it is to look at these magazines day in and day out. Vogue is bad enough, he said. Teen Vogue literally showcases images of children made to look like adults. 

And it's true. It's a double offense: not only do very young teen models working in the fashion industry become subjected to sexualization, but the older women looking at these images think there is something wrong with their own bodies because they don't look anything like the people pictured.

This is sad.

And it leads to an unrealistic (and binding) game of comparison.

"A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones."   ~ Proverbs 14:30

I've been praying lately that I would be a woman who celebrates others' victories, not envies them. If you're like me and struggle with comparing yourself, you may find it hard to be happy for others. So often, we feel like we don't measure up. But, we all fall short. We're all imperfect. And there will always be someone skinnier, prettier, or more talented at watercolor painting than you. But if you put all your stock in being the "best" at something, where will your worth be when you're no longer on top?

"My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be."

~ Psalm 139: 15-16

My magazines now sit in a crumpled heap at the bottom of my purple wire wastebasket.
I'm not saying I won't have to re-learn this lesson again in the future (my track record says I will), but I'm grateful God used my father to address this issue with me tonight.

One more thing: I casually mentioned to my Dad that I picked up the magazine from the 25 cent pile at the library. It hardly cost me anything; it was practically free. But then he turned to me and said,

"It's not free. It's never free."

And you know, anyone trapped in the lifestyle of comparison, they're not living free, either.

"So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."

~ John 8:36

+ Props to you if you read all of this. I mean it. Also: please notice the distinct lack of gifs in this post. 
I showed restraint. That's what I'm talking about, people.