Enough Already!

I want to share a story that my water delivery lady told me randomly the other day. She got stranded in the middle of the night one time, in a part of the city known for being "dangerous". She had to walk alone on the side of the road and hope to catch a taxi or a motorcycle (this is the Philippines; hopping on the back of a bike is like catching a cab). There was another couple walking at a distance behind her. Soon a bike came up the road. She was hopeful, since she was ahead of the couple, that the bike would stop for her first. But it didn't. The driver passed her and picked up the couple. Then it started to rain. Soon after, another bike came and stopped for her. She told the driver where she needed to go, and he took her right to the door instead of dropping her off at the corner, which was more convenient for bikes. And he didn't charge her a penny for the ride. Gave it to her totally free. She told me that the bikes represented opportunity. The first one passed her by, even though "by right" it should have been hers. But God had something better coming that was just for her. Something special. Little did she know when was telling me this that only a couple days earlier I had gotten a little backdated surprise. This is embarrassing to admit, but I just learned about a certain feature of Facebook Messenger called the "Other" inbox. Apparently, I have been receiving messages from non-friends for a couple years now, but I never got any notifications and never thought to check the tab labeled "Other". I never even noticed it. I unintentionally have been ignoring people for years. Among those shunned are some faces of the past who had attempted to reach out and connect with me, some random "Hey Baby" messages from names like Deezel or J Cool, and some encouraging messages about this very blog. One of those encouraging notes was from an editor at a well-known women's magazine asking if I wanted to talk with her about contributing something to the magazine. The message was dated last year. Oops. I'm sitting on the side of the road, watching that ride pass me by. Except it passed by last year and I didn't realize it until now. I'm not upset about it anymore. Clearly, my life was meant to move in another direction. At least for now. I'm okay with that. Still, it's hard not to feel a little envious when people I'm close to are doing things like recording albums, starting businesses, and publishing books. I know a lot of people look at my life and say "Come on--you have two great kids, you have a Masters degree, and you moved overseas!" I know I'm privileged and that my life is not dull. But lately it feels...insignificant. I came here attached to my husband. It's his dream that brought us here. He gets to live his dream. Other people I know are living their dreams. I...don't know what my dreams are yet. At 33, I still don't know. I go into places like bookstores and banks and I think "See, this is all I would need. A 9 to 5 job at a cute little desk, very clear expectations, a little world to organize and control, and once in awhile a fun or challenging interaction with a customer". For much of my youth I dreamt of being a librarian. Maybe I'm not living my dream right now because my dreams tend to be on the small side. But if I dare to dream a little bigger, like imagining myself as the director of a community ESL center or having a talk show on issues of beauty and confidence, I almost immediately write them off as impossibilities. "That's just not me", I say. I could never do those things because my past has been marked by disorganization, fatigue, and fear. So instead I try to find significance in other ways. Like being pretty. Since losing my hair, I really had to step up my game in terms of appearance. I started accessorizing. I put on make up. I matched. And I got noticed. A bald girl will always get noticed, but I didn't always feel like people were looking at me strange. I often felt like people, male people in particular, were noticing me with appreciation. It helped to live in a city where head scarves (and even baldness) could be as much fashion statements as indications of a health issue. And then I started getting a lot of comments. I was told outright that I was beautiful. I began to think that's what I am--a beautiful woman. And that's all I am. If I can get men to notice me, I have accomplished something significant. This was especially important to me after going through so many painful adolescent and teen years desperate to be noticed but too shy and awkward to make it happen. I hit those developmental markers really, really late. But I'm bored with it, quite frankly. I mean, I'm still way too gratified by looks and comments. But I'm tired of constantly wondering if people think I'm beautiful. There's got to be more to me. A few years ago at my church, a speaker was giving an encouraging message to our dwindling congregation and was giving shout outs to people who were really doing a lot to help our church be a vibrant, hospitable community. The speaker named folks who were giving their time and energy in all kinds of ways. When my name was called, I expected to hear that I had put a lot of time into the children's ministry, or that I was leading the music team with excellence. But the speaker said that I was "an elegant member of the community". Now, I know what this person meant. I know this person meant that I was living with a very visible health issue in a way that spoke truth about human dignity and finding good in challenging situations. I know the person meant that I carried myself in a way that gave God credit for his beautiful creation. But I only know that now. What I heard at the time was "Wendy is good at being pretty even though we all know she is bald." (Dear friend, if you are reading this, I hold no ill feelings. You know I leaned on you and your family and I love you!) Well I want to be good at other things. Remember the movie Clueless? For some reason, I chose that movie to be the movie I could quote from start to finish in high school. Now, I still love the novel it was adapted from (Jane Austen's Emma). Anyway, Cher, the main character in Clueless (played by Alicia Silverstone), decides at one point that she needs a makeover, but this time it would be a makeover of her soul. Very dramatic and inspiring. I want to be more than how I look. I want to start something and actually finish it. I want to be smart about things and hold intelligent conversation. And...still be pretty. Because let's face it, being a bald woman is tough. I still need the puffing up bit. I believe that God is trying to draw me out. The real me, the one behind all the fear and the victim complex and the anticipated failure. I believe God has me on a path that is just for me. And my ride is coming. Maybe I'm not ready yet. But good grief, what is it going to take? Something drastic, like a move overseas and a battle with intense anxiety and people staring at my bald head like they've never seen anything like it before. Hmmm. I'm journaling now, trying to discover patterns from my life to see where I've been and where I might be going. I'm trying to listen to God. I'm trying to believe that He really loves me no matter what. Sounds so simple, doesn't it? But it's not a truth that is embedded in my core yet, for some reason. I don't get it yet. I'm still looking for validation from men (this time I mean "humans"). But it's not enough anymore. And that has to be a good sign that I'm on the right road.

Poor Miley

Okay, I have to say something about Disney Princesses.

Not these:



...these:



...and this one in particular:



I just get so sad looking at her.

Why do Disney child actors, girls in particular, "grow up" by becoming icons of sexual indulgence? They inevitably go to the extreme when it comes to proving their emergence from innocent childhood and appealing to an older audience...although I'm afraid this audience is getting younger and younger.

Growing up means so much more than opening yourself up to sexual activity. Why can't these actors and pop singers prove that they are "all grown up" by demonstrating mature decision-making and intellectual development? I get so disturbed watching the latest performances by Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez. They are nothing but objects of the media. It's a sick kind of social slavery. They (the singers and the media) know what sells, and unfortunately this ends up perpetuating male-dominant/female-abused behaviors.

I can't place all the blame on the celebrities themselves. We, the consumers, demand the supply of racy, shocking, disturbing, and outright sick displays we see. And the agents working with the stars tell them what to do in order to sell albums and get publicity. Sadly, that's what "talent" means these days--doing whatever is necessary to keep your face in the Twittersphere. (For an even darker explanation, check out this article ("MTV VMAs 2013: It Was About Miley Cyrus Taking the Fall")--but read it critically. I don't actually buy into the specifics of what the author says in this or other works, but I do think the general trend is true.)

I know I'm not saying anything new, and I know there is a lot behind this issue that I haven't addressed. I just want to do a small part to further the counter-cultural message that we, the consumers, don't have to buy this crap. Set Miley free.

YourSpace

We all take up space. We are privileged to live and move within a personal bubble, able to exercise control over at least our immediate surroundings. Many people take full advantage of this "right". They strut, they argue, they flirt.

Me? I don't like to assert my space. I prefer to pretend that I don't really take up any space. I step aside, I lower my eyes, I back off. I don't loathe myself--I just think other people would be put off if I were to privilege my space, and all that goes on within, over theirs. I am, essentially, a people-pleaser. I never want to be the cause of strife. But this is not truly about wanting the best for others. I think it's more about wanting others to think highly of me. Always.

But lately...

I have had to let others know, sometimes rather assertively, that I have just as much "right" to be in my space as they do in theirs. I suppose it's for my growth that I have increasingly been thrust into conflict, but it's actually really draining for me. For some divinely ordained purpose, I have a family made up of strong-willed lawyers and lawyers-in-training. My husband and kids are incredibly bright lights. They are fierce, smart, and loud! They are not ashamed of the space they occupy. They don't just breathe in its air; they suck it down like lemonade. They dance, they laugh, they shout. They argue. They don't look back.

But as their personal bubbles stretch and expand with so much life inside, they bump into other bubbles. And walls. And rules.

And I have to patch up the other bubbles, or at least stop them from quivering in the wake of...okay, my poetic analogy has fallen apart. You get the idea. I now find myself regularly facing conflict with the very people I have spent my life trying to appease: neighbors, counselors, teachers, babysitters.

My husband told me recently that maybe the purpose of these conflicts is to set me free from the need to have people like me. I don't need to be everyone's friend, he told me. And I have to wonder.

Is it so wrong to want to keep the boat still? When the boat rocks, people fall overboard. And I hate getting wet.

But, for better or worse, I do have to grow up and toughen up. I have to stand in my space and raise my voice without fearing that someone will question my right to be where I am.

Yeah...I'll let you know how that goes.

Princess Overload

The obsession with Disney Princesses in our society is becoming more and more evident to me as I look for topics to write about on my blog. They are ubiquitous, both on the web and on store shelves. I get it. I mean, who wouldn’t want to wear extravagant, colorful gowns and have adventures with talking animals and roguish men all the time?!

What is really fascinating about the Princesses is how many people have tried to reimagine them. By that, I suppose I really mean “re-image” them. As in, give them a new image. I have seen the Princesses bald. Fat. Old. Bespectacled. Depicted as suburban moms. Dressed in historically accurate costumes. Placed in dark settings of human suffering.

Why are so many people spending so much time trying to insert the Princesses into so many different contexts?


(lookmatic.com)


(deviantart.com)


(weheartit.com)


(fanpop.com)


(Dina Goldstein)

No wonder it's so hard to get my daughter to think about something else--anything else--besides Princesses. They are no longer one-dimensional, fairy tale characters. Now, they have walked in our shoes. Or at least we like to think so. We like to imagine the Princesses in less-than-perfect situations--maybe because we so desperately want to believe that the perfection they exude in their original context is really unattainable. If we could see from all other angles, maybe we would realize that we don't have to keep hoping to escape into the world of a Disney Princess.

We want them to step into our lives for awhile, if we can't step into theirs.

Are these re-imaginings helpful? I don't think so. I think they only serve to keep us fixated on these "characters". I appreciate the idea behind all these efforts to humanize the Princesses. Just as I appreciate how the latest Princesses have starred in stories which are about more than just love and marriage. Still, these stories and these new images are all pointing to a particular definition of "beauty"--whether by modeling it or depicting its antithesis.

Lately, I have heard some words coming out of my seven-year-old daughter's mouth that disgust me. I'll just be honest. And I have threatened to take Princesses completely out of the picture for her if I feel they are distorting her perception of others around her. I have allowed Princesses to be part of her life to a certain extent, but I'm discovering how quickly they can become an obsession. An obsession promoted and capitalized on by our culture.

Instead of reimagining the Princesses, I would like to refocus the lens on women (men too, but women in particular) who need to feel a little more brave, beautiful, deserving, talented, adventurous, and all the wonderful qualities celebrated in the Princess archetype. Let's get over the Princesses and the efforts to give them more and more "original" or "realistic" looks, and let's focus on actual reality.

I want my daughter to spend her time appreciating what she sees in real people, not surfing the web to see how many different kinds of Princesses she can see.

I want my daughter to see different body shapes, sizes, colors and ages as equally beautiful parts of a spectrum, not as novelty affectations on a Princesses body that make her giggle and/or sneer.

Most of all, I want my daughter to believe that life is valuable because it is given by God, not because the Princesses have endorsed certain aspects of it.

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 7

I think I take myself too seriously. Seriously.

I try to be very put together and composed in social settings. I am self-conscious about my smile and laugh, so I minimize all expression when I'm with anyone other than my mom and sister. I also check and double check to make sure my appearance is impeccable; because heaven forbid I let anyone see me with a bit of food in my teeth or a drip at the end of my nose (the wonderful by-product of a sinus procedure I had done a few years ago).

But I miss the freedom of being myself, without all the rehearsal and performance. I really do feel like I am putting on an act much of the time. I try to keep myself looking classy, when I'm really kind of a mess. I stumble, I cough at odd times, I fall off piano benches at church, I pass gas every now and then, my voice cracks when I sing--in other words, I'm like all of you! And I'd like to do more than just know that in my head. I'd like to laugh at myself in a way that brings joy rather than self-deprecation. I'd like to be silly without being self-conscious.

Now, I understand there are times when being silly will get you nowhere--or may even get you fired. But most of the time, I think we could all do with a little less performance and a little more natural expression.

My challenge today is to get over ourselves. Being goofy, messy, clumsy, annoying, ditsy, or one of countless other less-than-perfect qualities is actually beautiful. These qualities speak to our common humanity and vitality. The occasional gaffe does not define us, nor does it change how people see us--at least not in the long term.

The best way I can think of to pull off this challenge is to make silly faces at myself in the mirror before I walk out the door. So I challenge you to do the same! Smile, laugh, frown, stretch, open, scrunch, skew--and see the beauty inherent in expression of all kinds. Set yourself free from the need to be perfectly composed. The less seriously you take yourself, the more you will begin to redefine your beauty in terms of your inner beauty rather than your outer "perfection".

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 1

Today begins a 10-day challenge of redefining how we project our identity and recognize our unique beauty. Every day I will offer an experiment for you to try as you head out into a world where we live in a dichotomy made up of airbrushed magazine images on one side and the face we see in the mirror on the other. Hopefully this will be the beginning of determining our own standards of beauty and refusing to be victims of the war being waged on our hearts and minds by the media.

Today's challenge: Improvise!

You don't have to look like the Target models. You don't have to wear only what is "in style", according to whatever magazine you read or reality show you watch. One positive thing about being bald is that I literally can't worry about how to fix my hair to look like celebrities. But I do struggle with wanting to look fashionable. So, I improvise--not to be confused with compromise. I don't want to give up the style I'm comfortable in just to gain acceptance from some imagined panel of viewers whose opinion will define me. Instead, I put together a "look" using what I have, and I go flaunt it!



I am wearing a lace cap, a scarf, a ribbon, and a scrunchie all at the same time! I don't know what "look" this is, but it works for me. I dug around in my scarf basket and put together what I had. It's a mix between Bohemian, urban, and homemaker. And I think it fits me perfectly.

I challenge you to improvise a "look". Put clothes and accessories together that you have never seen on TV. Do what feels good and fun in the moment--be creative! It will work for you, I promise.

(For inspiration, check out the "Hel Looks" link on my sidebar.)

My Kind of Character

Today I heard a fun program on my local talk radio. The hosts were talking about colorful characters who lived in and around Chicago. You know, those free spirited, eccentric oddballs whom everyone knew and had nicknames for. In the Windy City, apparently, we have had Racetrack Rosie, Kilt Man, Chicken Man, the Black Lone Ranger, among others.



I loved one of the host's insights that these "characters" are usually assumed to have mental illnesses, when in actuality they are often healthy, fully functioning individuals who are doing what they want do and indulging in what brings them joy. I've seen some characters in this fair city. This post will be the first time I've given them nicknames. I hope I do them justice:

--"Smiley Walker": The man walks everywhere. I only ever see him walking, and I see him absolutely everywhere within the 5-mile radius around my home. He always carries a medium-sized white plastic shopping bag at his side and he is always wearing the same clothes, but he is clean and groomed. This wouldn't necessarily qualify him as a "character", except for the fact that he smiles to himself. I always wonder what he's thinking.

--"Troll King": This guy rides his bike north around 8:30 in the morning, wearing a black kilt, black combat boots, a black T-shirt, and a white helmet. Why the nickname? Well...he's got long neon orange hair coming out the back of his helmet, and even longer neon pink hair sticking out of the top of his helmet, à la Troll Doll. I can't tell if it's his hair or some synthetic extension.

He would always ride alongside the car as I was taking my daughter to preschool. She called him the "crazy guy". I thought he had moved on, but a few weeks ago I saw him at an intersection, sans bike.

--"Singing Guy": This young African guy would walk around the neighborhood singing at the top of his lungs, wearing sandals. In the summer, in the winter, sandals all year round. In the winter he topped them off with an overcoat and a pork pie hat:


I haven't seen him in so long, I'm sure his family moved out of the area. I miss his exuberance.

Actually, we have several other "singing guys" in this neighborhood. You can hear them coming for blocks.

--"Crim": As in, criminal. But not really. This guy just wandered around muttering and grinning, always in a black leather jacket and Bulls cap, looking for locks to pick. I saw him picking our front gate lock outside my window when I first moved into my building. The cops said he's harmless, he does it to everyone. I guess it was our initiation into the neighborhood. I see him around, and truthfully I have a soft spot for him.

Does your city/town/neighborhood have any "characters"? Are you one of them??!!

I'd like to be one. Maybe I could be "Bald Lady". Get a cool tattoo on my head, a great wardrobe complete with huge earrings and long skirts, and some amazing shades. I should probably sing, too.

If not that, I can get a long hot pink wig that I've had my eye on and be "Wig Lady". I could walk around with a book in my hand and stand on corners reading. Everyone would wonder. So I guess I'd be "Pink Book Lady".

Who would you be?

Labels

This Sunday I had a 31 party at my house.

Nope, not my birthday. Sadly, I have already crossed that bridge.

No, Thirty-One Gifts is a company that sells bags, totes, wallets and other fun organizational packs. One way to get these products is through a product party. You know, where your friends come over and eat your food and watch a presentation about the products...and then, hopefully, they buy from the catalog so you can get some free stuff as a hostess!

That's not really what it's all about, of course. I especially like this company because it's Christian-owned, female-owned, practical, and supportive of business-minded women. And the consultant who did my party is fabulous. (If you're in the Chicago area, give this woman a call to do a party in your home!)

Just so you know, I have not been paid by Thirty-One Gifts to do an endorsement. I didn't mean to do a commercial for them. I'm just trying to give you a context for the really sweet activity we did at the party, which is very fitting for this blog.

The consultant called it "Labels". She had heard of my blog and asked me to share a little at my party. Since her company's motto is "Celebrating, encouraging, and rewarding others for who they are", she led us in an activity that had absolutely nothing to do with buying products and everything to do with encouraging my friends and I to celebrate true, inner beauty.

Each of my friends was given a label and asked to write one word on it that they felt described me. Here are some they came up with:



Then, one by one they had to come up and stick their label on me, sharing their word and why they chose to label me that way.



The goal, of course, is to redeem the concept of labels. We give others labels all the time that trap them in wrong and ridiculous ideas about their worth as people. Through an exercise like this, we remember to create uplifting and true labels about the parts of our character that shine through to others.

That's exactly what was so hard for me about this activity. The labels people came up with for me supposedly represent how they see me. But they are SO far from how I see myself. How can a person who is so insecure, irritable, guilty and troubled be seen by others as strong, cheerful, giving and soulful? I tend to think of myself as the person I think I am, but what if I'm really the person others think I am? What if my outward projections matter more than my inner struggles?

What if those closest to me--my husband and kids--could see me the way my friends, students and coworkers see me? What if I lived into these labels rather than my own?

I kept the sheet of labels. Now and again I hope I come across them and remember to treat myself the way others see me.

Time to Go on a Diyet?

A friend of mine forwarded a link to me today, and when I clicked on it I saw this:



At first, it reminded me of another image I saw on another friend's Pinterest board:


So at first I though it was a hoax--a writer using child-like penmanship in order to illustrate a point and garner some attention about an issue.

But as I read on, I became convinced it was true. A seven-year-old wrote that list. And her mom is naturally very angry at society for upholding the values we do concerning appearance and beauty, which eventually led to this little girl making such a list.

Apparently the girl heard about this "diyet" from a friend at school. Who knows how the friend heard about it. Maybe she has a big sister who reads teen magazines.

I understand the mother's frustration. I, too, am worried that I will be forced to talk about issues with my young daughter that she really shouldn't have to deal with until she's much older.

I might try to look at it another way, though. Maybe these girls are writing about "diyets" because they have read about them and they seem like important, grown-up things to emulate. Like when a kid writes a "menu" and takes your order, or "writes a check" to pay for toys in their room.

But let's say these girls are taking this seriously. This mom did exactly the right thing and talked to her daughter about the beauty of her body just the way it is. I also suggest having the friend over and doing some activities that will get counter-cultural messages across.

But the real issue here is that little girls are taking their bodies very seriously. They are learning how to put on makeup, accessorize, dance and walk in ways that make them feel grown up. Because our culture tells them that their value lies in how much attention they can get for their looks.

This mom was questioning her choice to let her daughter play with a Barbie doll. I've been there, making the choice between giving in to my daughter's wishes for pretty playthings and trying to substitute her desired object with something less damaging for her self image.

I let her have a Barbie.

Because ultimately, I think balance is key. I let her have a Barbie, but instead of a Barbie video for Christmas I got her a Veggie Tales movie about true beauty. I think it's okay for little girls to learn from an early age how to take their of their bodies. I think it's okay for them to be affirmed in their desire for "prettiness". The problem comes when we limit the idea of "prettiness" to a Barbie doll or Disney princess. Another problem comes when we indulge them in their desire to grow up too fast. We womanize and sexualize our little girls because we think it's so cute that they look like little ladies.

Look at this swimsuit from Target:


It starts at size 4. Some moms probably think their 4-year-olds look darling in this little mini bikini. Let's face it, a woman's body is very pleasing to look at. Fine. But is the idea of a woman's body so alluring that we must project it onto little girls?

I haven't even addressed the issue of sports, dance, gymnastics and pageants for little girls. Again, balance is key. We as a society tend to keep pushing the envelope--maybe part of our "westward expansion" mentality. We could stand to sit back and let things be.

I'd love your reactions and thoughts.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 29

Umm, beauty...having a hard time with this tonight.

Oh--today I saw a woman who was clearly from Africa coming back from the grocery store with two bags of food in her hands...and a 24-bottle case of Dasani water on her head. She was turning around, she was getting keys out--and the bottles never wavered. Unbelievable.

Later at work I walked by a woman's office...and she was working on her laptop while she was walking on a treadmill. In a skirt and tennis shoes. Door wide open. And why shouldn't it be?

How beautiful to see traditions and quirks being lived out in the middle of "normal" life. Of course. Because traditions and quirks are what are normal for us. Maybe not to everyone else, but they are identity-building for us.

Unfortunately, I have always tried to "fit in" and hide anything that sets me apart from what I consider to be mainstream. But I think it's time to free my mind and live in the oddities and customs that make me who I am.

Isn't it fun, after all, to begin to get to know someone well enough to discover those things that make you go "huh"?! Like, "Wow, I never realized you could carry water bottles on your head", or "So, you like to dance in your living room in front of a mirror?"

How about those things that you have always done, never questioned, and could never let go of? The things that never enter your consciousness until you move to a new place where "those things" are done differently? Take pride in them and rediscover their beauty. Don't hide them.

And let's look at the flip side: when you see someone doing something that is clearly not in the realm of "normal" for you, look on in a spirit of admiration and non-judgment. After all, the things you take for granted as "normal" are probably pretty quirky to someone, somewhere.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 28

Radical acceptance.



I learned this concept in Mindfulness therapy. We did this exercise where we had to close our eyes and think of an event or situation that filled us with a lot of tension and stress. We had to think of something we were saying "No" to. No, I don't want to come home for Christmas. No, I don't want to go to work on Monday morning and face my obnoxious boss. No, I don't want to have the same fight about finances again.

Then our leader had us practice saying "Yes". And with that simple word, it was amazing what happened physically. Just saying the word "yes" relaxed my shoulders and released the breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

This therapy session was a couple years ago, but the idea of "radical acceptance" has stayed with me. It's the idea so eloquently expressed on bumper stickers: "S*** happens". Life is not going to be easy. The more I can accept the situations and circumstances I find myself in, without trying to fight my way out of them, the more peaceful and healthy I will feel.

This is not to say that I should lie down and take everything life throws at me. I have choices to make. But if I spend my energy saying "This shouldn't be happening to me" then I will have no energy left to make wise decisions.

Sara Groves has a song called "Starfish" which expresses the same idea: "Peaceful creature, come and be my teacher. / Flotsam, jetsam, swish and swirl, and you don't even care."

I don't think it conflicts with my Christian worldview to practice radical acceptance. I choose to (try to) follow the teachings of Jesus, and he says not to be anxious about circumstances (Matthew 6:25-34). The reason I can practice radical acceptance and say "yes" to my circumstances is because a)I know suffering is part of the human condition for now, b)I am usually not in control of my circumstances, only how I respond to them, and c)I profess to believe in a God who cares about my life and is ultimately taking care of me. That's pretty hopeful in the long term. Radical acceptance puts short-term problems into long-term perspective.

The word "yes" is beautiful, but not always easy to say. I'm thinking of it today because I am having a hard time with this alopecia today, and I am facing unwanted truths about a difficulty my daughter is going through.

Can you think of anything you have been inwardly saying "no" to? Would a radical "yes" set you free?