welcome to the liberation station.

We often ask ourselves, "Who Am I?"

 It's an important question, but I think it gets too much attention. 

Something that deserves more attention: "Who am I not?"

As women we accuse others of labeling us but so often label ourselves by the negative things we focus on, what we see ourselves lacking or having over people in the media, how we compare to whoever or whatever, the words we say negatively about ourselves and others. 

It's funny when we see how silly and trivial much of what we let define us actually is- including objects, inconsequential situations, and feelings of others that we can't control.

Whether you can be honest about it or not, the truth is that those things hold us captive- and they are lies. Nobody who has wisdom to see the lie for what it is holds onto it. So let's name it, and let's let it go, together.  

No Plain-Faced Girl, make this your liberation moment. What will you not let define you anymore? What do you need to lessen your grip on to become who you really want to be?

The "Who Am I/What Defines Me?" question can only come after the "Who am I not?/ What will I Not Allow to Define Me?" question. Trust me.

 I encourage you to write your own list down, and to keep it near (not to dwell on it), but to call out the lies about yourself when you hear them, to move your focus to the things and the traits that you want to bring closer to who you are.

Here's my list to get us started:

"WHAT I AM NOT/ WHAT WILL NOT DEFINE ME: my body, my grades, my friendships, my family, my roommates, my things, my leather jacket, my clothes, what (list of names) etc think of me, manicures and pedicures, curled hair, make-up, organization or lack there-of, a degree people will be impressed with, A’s or B’s, bigger boobs, smaller thighs, a tinier waist, poetry, funnier jokes, the color of my hair, the state of my complexion, cool musicians, good music, good books, the latest whatever, the price of my computer, notches in my “professor likes me”  chart, living in fear of the future, art, big checks, staying in the boat, what hotel I stay in, my current circumstance, the weather, being sweaty when I don’t want to be, lack of raincoat, waiting in lines, a bad picture, a perfect run, the way I look in the morning, how my legs look in a dress, what I’ve said in past relationships..."

*Keep going until you can't think of anything else. Trust me, this is about a 9th of what I could have written down had I wanted to make this the longest blog post ever. 

But you will also feel, by God's grace, a burden lift from your heart.

 You don't have to be those things. YOU AREN'T THESE THINGS. 

Refuse to be defined by things that don't truly matter. You know what they are, just call them out. Lay them bare on a sheet of paper. Refuse to give them power.

Liberate yourselves, my loves. 

Now in the places where all of those empty lies once sat, 

put truths in their place about what can get you to who you really want to be. 

love, 

 claire

 

kiss and tell.

It was August 2006 when I got my first kiss. It happened halfway through a movie and I wasn’t expecting it. I was tracking with the characters, absorbed in the plot, when all of a sudden- LIPS! LIPS ON MY LIPS, out of nowhere.  And in that instant, as I registered the epic event that was happening to me, I realized what it meant for something to have my full attention. I was so there. I felt like I had 16 senses, rather than five. Every part of me was alert, aware.  It was a sensory experience of the highest level; and everything in me shouted “Don’t lose this moment! Engage! Press in! Hold on!” And I did. No one had to tell me to do that—it just happened. No one had to tell me to close my eyes and lean in. It was the most natural thing in the world. 

I’ve recently been asking myself—when have I ever been that aware again? When have I had my senses as engaged as I did the night of my first kiss? Can this sort of sustained attention to something or someone become natural? 

There are many things that deserve far more attention than we give them. We flit from one thing to the next, content to have touched upon a thousand things, just to say we have.  But this is not true knowledge of something. JI Packer says, “to know of God and to know God are two very different things.” The same goes with people or experiences.  To know something is to live it, to experience it in as many facets as you can. So this is a call to avoid half-baked multitasking moment. 

As believers, we must be all in; senses piqued, Holy awareness.  We must lean in to hear people and touch them with Jesus’s love.  If that means putting down your flashcards because a friend needs to talk at Caribou, do it. Be given over to that moment, to that person. You won’t be changed (or change someone else) unless you truly engage. There is no other option. But this is also a call to be discerning about what you give your full attention to. Paul asks us to think about things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy. Those are the signs of God’s stamp on the world—the things that deserve our focus. 

For undivided attention to become natural, a shift must occur. My first kiss was natural because it was the time and place for it to happen. I was in a relationship, we were in close proximity, and we both desired it.  To become people who open our hearts to other people’s lives, and give ourselves to the moments God gives us (a sunset, a piece of music, children playing), we must be in relationship with the One who created those things. We miss beauty because we are consumed with life’s worry and minutiae. We must choose the better thing. 

Why are we uncomfortable with the thought of attending fully to one thing to the exclusion of others? Do we think we are so important that the world will stop if we only lend our ears to one person or one moment or one God at a time?  We must put down the idol of our own importance. I’m sorry, but it must be done. What is important is to engage with the people or situations that God has brought near for His good purposes.  

So yes, this is about stopping the texting when your friend is trying to tell you about her day—honestly, stop that—but it goes past that. We desire to know and be known; the intimacy of a kiss, but we hesitate to give that primacy to others or to God.  Scripture tells us that He is jealous of our attention—the God of the Universe listens to us!  And yet how often do we fully focus during our time with Him?   

We would agree with Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie that “We want life in every word to the extent that it’s absurd,” yet we don’t do what it takes to get there. Create moments of willing one thing and one thing only. In your frantic world, give things your full attention, heart mind and strength. Because I promise you, after that first kiss, all you can think about is how long it will take for the next one to come around.  

And all you have to do is lean in.  
 

you've got mail!

I WANT TO SEND YOU SOMETHING LOVELY.

That's right. Yes, you beautiful girl reading this--I want to mail you something delightful through the mail. It's just the kind of girl I am. It's just one of those things I like to do.

I can't tell you what it is, because I don't quite know yet myself! 

Every note/letter/quote/goodie/art piece that I send will be as different and unique as each girl who decides to take me up on this.

If you would like something sent to you this summer before the end of August- shoot me an e-mail at imnoplainfacedgirl@gmail.com

with your

NAME and ADDRESS where I can reach you between now and August.

I can't promise you what it will be, or when it will be there, but I can promise you it will be lovely.

Anyone who sends me an e-mail with the above information contained will be getting a little joy in the mail sometime this summer.

I hope to delight you with my random creativeness.

-Creator (of small delights and large Facebook groups full of No Plain-Faced Girls), 

Claire

like it, love it, can't get enough of it.

FACT: When you are grateful for something, you can't complain.

To be honest, when it comes to our bodies, which we find more things to complain about than cheer about, we are denying the real truths: 1) our bodies do things for us that we MUST be grateful for, things that we are NOT acknowledging, and 2) you have a beautiful body that is not receiving the praise it's due.

It’s time to turn that around.

I know there are bad days. You look in the mirror wondering, why this part does not balance out with that part? Does that look strong, or just big? Is there any way to enlarge this part of me while taking away from this part of me?

Time to shut those lying voices up PRONTO. Today.

FACT: You were created by the hands of a God who knew exactly what He was doing. It’s time to thank him for that body.

I can say that I like my body. I don’t just LOVE it, because I’m supposed to LOVE myself and that’s the right thing to do, I REALLY like it. I have a body I truly like to live life in.

There's a difference. You can always say you LOVE your parents, but when you say you LIKE them, it's another dimension. It means you want to be around them, you truly enjoy them, you like their hows and their whys and the way they interact with you. They are likable people.

I say the same for your body: want to be around it. Enjoy it. Like it’s hows and it’s whys and they way it interacts with the world.

I’m here to preach a body gospel: YOUR BODY IS A STRAIGHT UP 10.
This will become clearer the more you are aware of the truths of exactly what it does for you, and learning to love exactly how it looks, today. Trust me on this.

I don’t care about what seems uneven to you (which is in your head anyway), I don’t care that your pants fit tighter than yesterday, I don’t care that she looks better in shorts than you do.

Move on. Focus on what is true: your many reasons to be grateful.


Lately I have been purposely writing down each day things that I’m grateful for that my body does for me. I have truly noticed changes.

I have stopped complaining so much. I have stopped poking and prodding so much. I have stopped comparing, and started cheering myself on.
I’m losing the right to complain (that I never had in the first place).

I beg you beautiful, perfectly formed, No Plain-Faced Girls to start writing down, every night, why you are grateful for your body. Sometimes, even if you don't feel it, write down why you know you should be.

Some examples from my journal:

“I am grateful that my body keeps me steady. I have strong legs that get me where I need to go. It always bounces back from a hard workout. It can run. It looks pretty darn good in clothes. It’s a body that I will share someday with the man I say “I do” to (and he’s going to be all about it :) ). I am modern art- curves AND straight lines, hard muscles and plush places. I have feet that are beautiful enough to pound pavement for miles and rock a sweet pedicure…”

You will not run out of things to write down so long as you start to believe the truth- You are created SO well. Your body can do AMAZING things. Don’t deny it.

So yeah, I like my body.
How could I not? It's a 10 out of 10! More truth? So is yours.

Like it, love it, treat it well.
Feed your mind words that are true.

Start here: Be grateful. You’re an amazing creation. 10 out of 10. Design AND function, No Plain-Faced Girl. Own it.

Love,
Claire

the real sexy.

"The other day my five-year-old son asked my wife, "Mom, what does sexy mean?"

She thought about it for a second, and then replied, "Sexy is when it feels good to be in your own skin. Your own body feels right, it feels comfortable. Sexy is when you love being you."

Because it all starts with being sexy on the inside." 

-Rob Bell (link to the book this quote came from)

*note- i bolded the word skin because i had accidentally typed "sin!" note to all- it should not feel good to be in sin.... :)

what you notice

and what you don't

says a lot about who you are. 

what do you give your attention to?

"No-Plain Faced Girls- whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is fair, whatever is pure, whatever is acceptable, whatever is commendable, if there is anything of excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy-keep thinking about these things."

-philipians 4:8 

brace yourself.

I’m getting braces.

 

Okay, so not a full mouth, pick up radio signals, silver (bullet proof) per tooth, but it’s happening.

 My orthodontist actually called them “brackets,” but that’s just how he speaks to twenty year olds. “Braces” are for kids with crooked teeth and Hannah Montana backpacks.

 “What did you think was going to happen?” My mom asked, sitting next to me in the orthodontist’s office, as I’m wringing my hands and staring at my teeth.  Sure as the doc said it, that tooth on the left is moving dangerously behind my other teeth.  About a week ago at school, I thought- I should probably get that checked out at home, just to see. Maybe we could do Invisalign, or some deal where they find my old retainer and shove that wayward traveler back into place…

 

This is not what I thought was going to happen.

 

“Did you wear your retainer?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

 I rack my brain for the words I want to say out loud: “Well, doc, post palatal expander for one year, braces for 7 years ending in 8^th grade, and you telling me they were coming off every three months until those months added up ‘til three extra years than what I thought I signed up for, no. The first thing I wanted to do when I could feel my teeth against my tongue again was wear a retainer every night for eight hours.”

 

I say: “No,” pressing my hands against my face, shaking my head. Crap, crap, crap.

“Well, really what we have to do is…”

“Don’t say it. Do not say it.” ßthis I did say out loud.

 

“You need brackets. It’s the only way to give the tooth enough room to maneuver it out with the others.”

 He talks about my tooth like it’s the loner at a cocktail party, but we all know it’s not that simple.  No conversation starters to draw Rebel Tooth in with the rest of the clan. No ease- ins with a laugh and a smile, no cute boy to give her a little wink and invite her in with the other white squares. 

 I picture the word in my mind, trying to make it something else.

 

BRAY- SIS.

BRAE- CYS.

 

BRACES.

 

“We can put them in today, let’s do it.” He stares at my Mom, my mom stares at me, and back at him, and says, “Can we have a minute?”

 

So there I sit, peeking through the fingers I have in front of my face, shaking my head.

“What do you want to do?”

 

Leave. I want to leave with my tooth that isn’t REALLY that bad and probably WON’T move any farther back and will probably NEVER cause me any problems in the future.

 

I also know that none of these things are probably true.

 

“Mom, I am so vain. I cannot wear braces at college. Do you know what this means? It doesn’t matter how cute my hair is, how much I love my outfit, or how much my skin is glowing. You just can’t get past the mouth of metal. Once you see that, it’s like- oh, well, she did seem kind of fun and pretty…until she opened her mouth…”

 

I said this all between two breaths.

 

She says it’s up to me. Dr. V has asked for six months, but I know there’s no way.  I’m about to cry, because this really deep place in me doesn’t want to look like a dweeb for any months, even if I decide to do it only for the three months of summer, and whatever headway we make, we make, and then I will wear my retainer like it’s my full time occupation, so I don’t have to go through this again.

 

I think these thoughts between two clicks of the second hand.

 

Dr. V comes over with a smile on his face, and puts his hand on the back of my chair.  I turn to face him. 

 

“I will do it for the summer, if you promise me that that’s enough time to really make a difference. I’m willing to give you that.”

 

“So not today?”

 

Look: The girl next to me is eleven years old. She reaches up and picks the rubber band color for her braces. She’s so excited. The bands on top of the metal on top of her teeth will now match the color of her I-pod.

 

Truth: I am twenty years old. I can pass for seventeen. I am getting braces. When I do, I will probably be able to pass for sixteen or fifteen.

 

“Not today.”

 

            Too soon, too fresh of an idea, too much to think about. But it’s going to happen, friends- April the 28^th.  B-Day used to stand for the day you were born, but this year for me it’s B for braces, and the day is coming.

 

Shift.

 

There is a part of me that is struggling so hard against this.  As a woman who at times finds herself swimming in the waters of our world and culture that are lies, lies about all the things we should be and aren’t, lies about all the things we should have that we don’t, it gets difficult.  It’s difficult from day to day to wake up, and do the hard but true work of saying, I am indeed beautiful. God made me and I am not just acceptable, or to be tolerated- I am a jewel in the crown of the God who made me, I am delighted in and delightful.

 I am what I am. This is not defeat. It is not a phrase that should end with a shrug and a sigh, a look at the floor. “I am who I am, and God made me Who I Am, and I am Beautiful” is what that means, and I will speak it into the mirror, watch the light glimmering off of my brackets, and walk into the world.

 I can’t lie; I don’t think braces are going to help me “feel better about myself” on the hard days. But I do think that God is doing something big in me. It’s bigger than braces, and it’s bigger than being twenty and having to deal with an unattractive inconvenience.

 I think I will continue to find that these three months (“braced”) are less about me than anything.  When I’m focused less on me, and more on what God is doing, and who God is bringing into my life, that’s when the really beautiful things happen. 

 

 Where I Am.

 

            When I got home after the appointment today, I held a bobby pin in front of my top teeth just to get a little metal dimension on the chompers.

 I am scared. I’m not going to like how they look. I know this already. I cringe when I look at pictures of myself at 12, brace-faced.  But that’s okay.

 

It’s not about how I look.

 I was talking to my friend Sarah tonight, and we laughed until tears came to our eyes.  She’ll be the one who sees them the most, shining like a beacon over the silver box that is my Apple computer the many days I spend at Fusion Brew (bubble tea and espresso café) this summer.  After making as many light-hearted jokes as we could think of (including me getting my teeth stuck in drapery), I paused.

 “It’s kind of cool that I’m going to have braces at twenty-- that it will be part of my life story. I mean, who would have thought?  I would want to be friends with a person who had braces at twenty. I would want to hear about it.”

 

So maybe you will.