child of God, wife, mother, recovering anorexic who longs to see the beauty in herself that she sees in the world around her

Sunday, June 10, 2012


I've shared this before but it fits with the word today.  Hubby once told me that I was a fighter.  I laughed at him.  There is no way I was the fighter he saw.  I laughed and asked him why.

"Because if you weren't a fighter you would have married the abusive boy.  People who aren't fighters don't have the courage to get out of those kinds of situations.  If you weren't a fighter you wouldn't have waited for the man who would die for you."

I thought his words were kind, overrated but still kind.  I have come to realize he was right.  I am a fighter. I am a warrior.  Sure I left the boy who hurt me, but that isn't what I think makes me a fighter.  I'm a warrior because anorexia knocked me back on my ass and I am still getting up again.  I'm a fighter because depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideations have plagued me my entire life but I haven't let them beat me.  I'm a warrior because I have the strength to get up one more time than I fall down.

This was my favorite song when I was young.  I always felt a sense of calm when I heard it.  I always knew deep inside of me, no matter how broken I have felt, no matter how weak I have been, no matter what storms were going on in and around me, that I could run to His arms when I was battle-weary.

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