I need to start writing more regularly, so at least some of my daily writing journals will be posted on my other blog, “To Touch the Stars.” If you’re interested in the rambling brain of a writer, please feel free to go take a look! For now, those entries will stay on my “writing” blog; I don’t know if I may at some point combine the two.
When Alexander and I first started developing a “more-than-just-friends” relationship, we quickly discovered that we shared a passion for camping and hiking in God’s great outdoors, especially in the Rocky Mountains. As we progressed in our long-distance relationship, many of our days together were spent on some sort of hiking adventure — last May we visited one of his friends and explored near the Tetons, in the summer we meandered amongst wildflowers and camped out for the Needtobreathe concert at Red Rocks in Colorado, that fall I took him up to a lake in the forests near my college, in November he proposed after a short hike in his Michigan woods, and this May our honeymoon road trip to the Oregon coast involved numerous outdoor adventures in all different sorts of country.
Moving into marriage, we hoped that we’d be one of those couples always off on another camping adventure. Our home in Casper, Wyoming, locates us near enough to plenty of mountains for weekend getaways, or so we rationalized. But I don’t know if either of us really thought our grand dream of frequent camping and hiking would ever come true. I was certainly hesitant to think so.
Apparently it’s going to take a while for me to get into a good routine of posting on a regular basis. So much has already happened since I last blogged, and I’m not sure where to begin. Beautiful drives, hikes, the new home, exercise, food….
So I guess I’ll start with something that’s been on my heart a lot lately, and that I’ve wanted to blog about for several months.
It’s been over a year since I wrote on this blog. Not counting the quick post with the article about my publication, I haven’t posted anything really personal or descriptive or friendly or interesting….
To be honest, the last year has been a whirlwind. I certainly would have loved to keep up on my blog, but it took a backseat to school, relationships, and life in general. I was working through my fifth and final year of college, seeing a phenomenal young man, being very active with friends on campus, taking care of my new dog, running around Dillon, working on the publication of my book, etc.
And it’s been an absolutely wonderful year in which God has not ceased to amaze me.
I’m going to tackle a touchy issue. (And if there are any guys out there reading this, feel free to stick around; I believe that this post applies to men and women alike.)
What is body shaming? Basically, it’s scrutinizing my own body, picking out the pieces I’m dissatisfied with because I think they should look differently (often by comparing them to people around me or to the media’s standards), dwelling on and hating those parts because they’re not what I want them to be, and constantly wishing they were different or trying to change how they look.
Okay, fine, it’s kind of cliché. Exaggerated. Boastful.
Honestly, I kind of cringed, too when it came into my head. But when I was at the top of the hill, panting to catch my breath, and trying to take a picture of the incredible horizon, that phrase was what popped into my mind. “Victory View.”