By Deena Peterson
I was 17, in my junior year of high school, and I hadn’t had a boyfriend yet. No dates either. Very self-conscious of my weight and body issues, and the thought of having a guy interested in me was mind-blowing.
My father’s best friend and co-worker had a son I’ll call Jim. Jim was much older than I was—college age, and he had a lot more life experience as well. And for some strange reason, he liked me.
By Amy Matayo
These four words. I’ve heard them my entire life. They’ve followed me around everywhere. From grade school, where I often got in trouble for talking too much (a funny thing now since I could very easily go several hours and days without talking to anyone but myself, especially when I’m writing), to high school to college to today. And I am. Happy by circumstance. Happy by nature. Happy because that seems to be the way God made me.
But not always.
by Lynne Gentry
I never intentionally set out to embarrass my children (well, okay, I might have kissed them on the cheek or yelled, “Mommy loves you,” a time or two while I was dropping them off at their junior high). But despite my best efforts to be the “cool mom,” I’m sure my kids often wished their mother wasn’t the crazy lady screaming encouragement from the bleachers…or writing little notes on their lunch napkins…or hanging around far too long during a practice or rehearsal.
by Robin Mason
“It’s easy, see?” My friend showed me for the ridiculous-th time how easy it was. No matter how I tried to explain that I get how to do the thing, but I cannot physically do it. The it in question was to unlock a chain on the gate, but because of Rheumatoid Arthritis, my hands do not have the strength to twist and turn just so to get the darn thing unlocked.
And my friend didn’t get it.
by Vanessa Wohl
Age tends to change not only our emotions, but also our bodies. Wrinkles begin to show, arms wave bye-bye after the hand has already stopped waving, and weight can go up and down. In today’s youth-obsessed, media-driven society, aging at times is assaulted with shameful thoughts and words. Commercials promote age-defying creams and regimens all the time. Why is there a shame factor attached to aging?
by Varina Denman
I hung new curtains in my living room. Woohoo! This wouldn’t be such a big deal if it weren’t the first curtains that have hung on those windows, and we’ve lived here twelve years. Twelve years! Without curtains! There always seemed to be something more important to spend time and money on, and home décor kept getting pushed farther down on the list, but now that we finally determined to make our home look as though we enjoy living here, we’re having a LOT of fun.
When I first began to write this post, I thought it would be easy. It is about something that made me happy in the past year. I am typically a pretty happy person and tend to find the joys of life. But like any other woman, I also have good and bad days, as well as doubts and insecurities. So when it came down to it, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to write in this post because sharing about myself on a personal level on a blog is a bit out of my comfort zone.
The task? To draw a self-portrait. Sure. No problem. And there sat the drawing paper and pencils for weeks.
Drawing a self-portrait should be easy for a person holding a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree. But my artistic mind runs more to the 3-Dimensional; ceramics, costuming, jewelry making and clothing design. Painting and drawing are flat, two-dimensional – not my forte. Is that why it’s so hard for this artist to draw my own likeness?