Our deepest wounds surround our greatest gifts.
Laying awake one night I asked myself "Am I living in such a way that I exude the fact that I am wholly loved" I said "no", I asked myself "Why", "because I don't feel worthy of being wholly loved". As I lay there with tears streaming down my cheeks I realized I still have lots of healing to do I still have pain that I haven't yet worked threw, I still have a story to tell. Although pain is real and inevitable it shouldn't weigh us down, it shouldn't hold us back. My God sent his son to die so that pain no longer determined my worth but that he did. That his love determined my worth and I was and always will be worthy.
I was always a sensitive kid, I hated being in trouble, I feared a lot, I always felt unsure. At the very young age of 11 I started to develop bad skin, I had these tiny bumps all over my forehead. At 11 no one has zits kids don't even really know about zits, this made me very self conscious. I remember at a friends sleepover one night her mom had bought her clean and clear cleansing pads and I remember thinking "maybe if I use enough of these I can get rid of these ugly bumps". The next morning we were in the car with a group of girls and my friend said to everyone "Last night Kirista used so many of my cleansing pads to try and get rid of these bumps on her face". I remember feeling mortified I wanted out of the car Right. This. Second. From then on the bumps would continue to get worse and move all over my face. I felt ugly, ashamed, confused. The middle of grade 6 we would leave my home city of vancouver and move 4 hours away to Kelowna. If any of you ever moved as a child you know how scary it can be. New city, new school, and worst of all new people. The 1st day of school I was terrified, I wanted to hide, I didn't want to be the "new girl", I especially didn't want to be the only girl with bad skin. I started to create a lot of anxiety over my skin, I hated it, the utter site of my appearance made me feel disgusted, almost un-human, like a monster. It didn't help that I was very tall, skinny, and hunched over in a way to try and make myself disappear. Kids at school started calling me "the hunch back of notre dame" Or "Quasimoto" and started to point out my skin. I hated myself, I hated my skin. At night I would take a face cloth and make it steaming hot and cover my face with it in a hopes to burn my zits off, I was desperate. I was to scared to ask my mom for makeup out of fear that she might say no, so I started stealing hers. Every morning before school I would stress out about how on earth I was going to get into her bathroom steal some makeup and then get out of the house without her seeing me wearing it. After school I would take paper towels from the bathroom and hide in the bushes washing all the makeup off my face. Once i started going to middle school it became worse, the stakes are higher in middle school the way you look matters far more then it ever did in elementary school. I started to lie to my parents and tell them I had basketball practice or volleyball practice in the mornings so I could leave the house earlier than anyone else and hide at my old elementary school (which was on the way to my middle school) Literally as it was still dark out and sit by the little outdoor light of the school. Caking my mask on. I sometimes would fall asleep against the brick wall because I would be there so early, the janitor often would see me and ask if I was ok. Id walk to school with my friends and then after school hide in the bushes by my house and wash my face then go inside run downstairs and shut my door. To my parents I was a terrible teenager, with a terrible attitude, I was anti social and preferred to be by myself. In reality I was hurting, I was really suffering, I was confused and had no idea how to communicate what I was going threw. I never had friends over because nobody could ever possibly see me with no make up on. I was terrified to go places in fear that I might see someone I knew. I would cry myself to sleep begging God to just please make my skin clear up. I hated sneaking around and lying it was really stressful and I would spend my time thinking about it all the time. Ill never forgot walking out of school one day and seeing my parents friend and thinking she was there for some reason to pick me up. I panicked she couldn't see me with all my makeup on and drop me off at my house. I ran into the field pretending I was searching for something in my bag but was frantically trying to get all the make up off my face. When I got to her car she said she wasn't there to get me but someone else. Ummm I have to walk all the way home? with no make up on? I started to freak out inside, I put my hood over my head, I walked as fast as I possibly could with my head down not looking at anyone, praying no one would recognize me. I was a monster unfit to be seen by the public. My skin would continue to get worse and I will never forget the day my mom bought me make up. My days of hiding and sneaking around were over, I got to get ready at home in the light of my bedroom mirror. This didn't change the way I felt but it took some of my stress away. A boy by the name of Sandy Christiansen,( I don't remember to many people from middle school but I will never forget his name) One day in class was looking at me and counting I said "what are you doing" he answered "counting all the zits on your face". You know when you believe something to be true about yourself but then when someone confirms it you know its really true. This was more validation of just how disgusting I looked. I would then be starting high school HIGH SCHOOL I can't do this I can't be this ugly. My poor mom really at this point was trying everything to help me clear up my skin (we tried EVERYTHING) finally we tried accutane which is so terrible for you but honestly whoever invented that drug I want to kiss you. My skin would become clearer than clear it was AMAZING! For the 1st time in my life I was pretty, I was no longer a monster. This new found confidence was dangerous because deep down inside I was still hurting, I was still shouting the question AM I WORTHY, but I was looking for the answer in the wrong places. I started determining my worth by how popular I was, I started putting it in guys. The hurting girl inside me was desperate to be anything but that monster I once was so I lived for the feedback of others. This is where my eating disorder would stem from, I could never go back to being "ugly" so I desperately needed to be beautiful in societies eyes. I made a lot of mistakes in high school, I did a lot of things I regret. In a lot of ways i feel like I was robbed of my adolescent years, because I never got to feel like what it would be like to just be Kirista. I never got to meet myself because I was always hiding from myself. Ive had a lot of anger welled up in me and it feels good to share this so I can rid myself of it. I don't write this for a pitting party trust me Ive had enough of those late at night by myself. I write this so that if you to at any point in your life ever felt or feel like a monster, your not alone. I can't take your pain away but I can understand it. I know this we are children of the King and we are worthy. In one of Brysons story books Jesus if talking to the donkey he will be riding into Jerusalem this donkey is young, weak and small and his whole life he has been deemed as un worthy. Jesus says this to him: "My help is enough; its all that you need. It's all you require in life to succeed. The weaker you are, the more strength I give. Ill be there to help you as long as you live. I know you feel tired and frightened and broken, but do you believe these words that I've spoken?
Yes lord I believe.
Nite nite
Kirista
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