Dedicated to My Brothers

I love to blog.  There is a sense of relief when I can share my thoughts, ramblings, and "aha moments" with you.  Your genuine comments and support are worth so much to  me.  In turn, I love to read your insights and commentary on life.  I recently read this blog post written by a woman and mentor that I have always looked up to.  In turn, I was inspired to write a little of my opinions on the topic of the oh so memorable high school years.

My younger brother is starting his senior year of high school this fall.  I have watched his high school years with 20/20 hindsight, peering into what high school seems to be and in turn seeing it as it really is, with my perspective as a 5th year college student.  

My biggest concern with high school students is that they have little to no perspective.  Should the high school athletes who punished you in gym class for your lack of athletic ability really affect your view of yourself, extending beyond the realm of the 90 minute gym period?  Will that score of a 2 on the AP Lang exam really make a difference in when you graduate college?  Will your friends hate you forever because of that time you said you couldn't hang out?  

The overarching advice I have for all three scenarios:  It doesn't really matter.  Life extends beyond those 4 years.  For some, they are the best years of their lives, and what a tragedy!  Life has so much to offer.  Once you realize that experience and perspective beget confidence, you have a wiser and sturdier head on your shoulders.  

If I look back at my high school days, I am a little traumatized.  I lost my identity half way through high school, having my parents pull the plug on my ballet career.  But with confidence, I can say life gets better.  The perm (yes, a perm in 2005), the braces, the breakouts, and even the perfect GPA are all things I regret.  The drama of those years wasn't a choice I made, but the fact that I let myself get so absorbed in it was.  Life moves on, even when you don't want it to.  

I look at my life now, and though it can be and will always be rough at times, I would never give away my appreciation for the things that have improved.  Because of those awful growing up years, I am here, alive, and willing to try a little harder to gain eternal perspective.

Please Remind Me Who I Really Am

There are so many things in this life that get us down.  Some are trivial, others seem beyond our threshold.  However, all pain is relative to the person who is suffering and therefore every suffering is painful.  

A week or two before my sister's wedding, I overheard the wedding planner ask, "Mackenzie doesn't have a date?  Really?"  Depending on the circumstances, it could have been interpreted in a different light, but I heard this: "Mackenzie doesn't have anyone to love her.  Pathetic."  I've struggled for the past 4 months with feeling alone.  So alone.  I'm still struggling with a traumatic break-up.  My mind runs a million miles a minute when I'm alone.  Why did he cheat?  Why did he lie?  Why didn't he care?  I thought he was the one.  The demons from my past creep inside my ear and whisper things that aren't true, but seem so luring at the time.  I can sit and dwell on the past, (which I admit I do more than not) or I can push myself.  Test the voices within.  

I taught a lesson for my Relief Society sisters on the first Sunday of the month.  I was prompted to teach on self-esteem and divine worth.  I shared the audio of this video:

I then asked the women how they overcome Satan's push to make us feel less than we are.  The answers were beautiful.  One in particular stood out to me.  The sister said that as she sits in the Celestial room in the temple, she looks in the beautiful, enormous mirror and sees her reflection.  There, in that setting, with the Spirit so strong she can see what the Lord sees in her.  

There are many times when I wish the cloud of forgetfulness would disappear so that I can see what the Lord sees in me.  I need to be reminded everyday that I am a daughter of our Heavenly Father.  I have great worth through the divine mission that I am here on this earth to carry out.  

On a more secular note, as I was getting ready this morning, I looked in the mirror, trying to put my eyeliner on and this song was playing:

It made me realize that everyone has their trials, many of them come from no fault of their own.  We have to learn to love them.  And someday, my prince will come, seeing me for who I really am, reminding me of who I really am.

I Love to See the Temple

Saturday is my sister's wedding.  In some ways, we're all ready for it to be over.  The endless nights of staying up late to prepare, the fights, and the stress, are getting to us.  In other ways, we are holding back the tears when we'll have to hand her over.  The fact that my sister will no longer be exclusively mine hasn't even sunk it yet.  There is no doubt in my mind that she will be a beautiful bride.  She and Cameron have really grown together over the past few months and I applaud Cameron for being able to handle Courtney when she gets tired, or hungry, or stressed.  I thought I would be the only one who could calm her down.  Yet, Cameron might have surpassed my sisterly abilities.  

Over the past little while, there have been a lot of questions concerning the wedding ceremony which will take place in the Latter-day Saint Washington, D.C. Temple Saturday morning.  It may seem strange to those not familiar with our faith that many close friends and even some family members cannot go inside the temple to see the ceremony.  Having grown up in the Church, I wouldn't have weddings any other way.  A temple wedding is sacred and eternal.  Temples are dedicated buildings set aside for the administration of sacred ordinances and the making of sacred covenants.  Temples are where some of the most profound knowledge has and will be received, both personal and general, pertaining to God's plan.  

Though I have not been through the temple and will not be able to see my sister be sealed for time and all eternity, I have a testimony of temples.  As I've mentioned in previous posts, I struggled with an eating disorder and severe depression for over a decade.  During some of my darkest moments, the only thing that kept me living was the promise and hope the temple brings.  I keep my eye to the temple, for I know that someday I will be blessed to enter its walls.  The Prophet Thomas S. Monson said, "Those who understand the eternal blessings which come from the temple know that no sacrifice is too great, no price too heavy, no struggle too difficult in order to receive those blessings."  The struggles and burdens I carried were overcome.

Congratulations Courtney and Cameron.  I love you both!

My Wish

I lost a fellow fighter in the battle against eating disorders and depression earlier this month.  Elizabeth Metcalf died May 18th.  I found out May 24th.  It has been so difficult.  Nights of tears and desperate cries of "why not me?!" have filled the past week.  

We met in a treatment setting a year and a half ago.  Though she was almost 20 years my senior, it was uncanny how alike we were at the time.  We slowly parted ways--one of us died in the eating disorder, the other lives to tell the tale.  

Left to Right: Kaitlyn, Elizabeth, and Me

NEDA Awareness Week Walk February 2011

How do I show the world that eating disorders are serious?  How do I re-dedicate my life to recovery?  How do I allow Elizabeth to inspire me and in turn, inspire those with whom I come in contact?  My goal is to go from ballet studio to ballet studio in the area, inspiring dancers not only to realize the severity of eating disorders but to encourage them to dance from their whole being, in spite of the negativity in the dance world.  I am working with a mental health clinician to develop a sort of outreach program that focuses on eating disorder awareness in the dance setting while at the same time promoting a love for dance.

Though my efforts may never gain mainstream attention, I know that even with each blog post I write, someone is affected.  Elizabeth, your dream was to never be ashamed of being in recovery.  The least I can do is to stop living in silence about my struggles with anorexia and depression and success in overcoming them.

When I was at Center for Change, we would sing "My Wish" by Rascal Flatts to each patient as they moved on to greater things at the time of their discharge.  I can't listen to it without tears gushing from my eyes.  

Elizabeth, this is for you...

We Uplift

As I look back over the past week, I see a community.  Not the kind with HOA rules and regulations.  Nor the kind where you have to pay your dues. I see a community where people use their proverbial assets to uplift and strengthen each other without any expectations.  Let me explain...

My thoughts on the subject stem from a selfless act of service.  It was a drizzly, no good day.  A small group of friends and I were in the car, on the way to see the Avengers. Mind you, I had two grown men in the back of my car.  They were grinning from ear to ear because a dear friend of mine and I had agreed to first, let them come along, and second, change our movie pick from a chick flick to the Avengers.  Once we were on our way, one of the guys in the backseat got a phone call.  It was from a friend who unexpectedly found herself in the emergency room.  Without a moment's hesitation, he gave up his only night off work early to drive almost a half hour away plus the additional time in rush-hour traffic to offer a Priesthood blessing.  Priesthood holders who are willing and worthy to serve are a blessing in the lives of so many.  I admire their humility, charity, and selflessness.  In the end, he spent the night with his friend in the ER.  He "slept" in a suit and tie and woke up early to drive another half hour to work without any complaint.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm one of the only people who knows about his sacrifice.

The next day was horrible for me.  Old wounds were opened, bad news delivered, and an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and inadequacy set in.  Looking for support is new for me, and I must admit I am very awkward when I seek help.  I called my best friend, whom I know will be in my life forever, through thick and thin.  She mourned with me, she tried her best to bear my burdens, and comforted me in ways that only a best friend knows how.  She truly uplifted me.  "Mackenzie, don't be afraid to make life better for yourself."  That sentence has pushed me through a continuing difficult week.  She spent over an hour on the phone with me and finally got me to laugh.  I am grateful for good friends who pick up and listen to your woes and then are able to get you to smile when you really don't want to.

Sunday rolled around and I once again gave a lesson to a room full of people.  The lesson went well, but I still was shaking and sweating a little after church ended.  As I drove home, I realized the immense amount of pollen on my windshield.  As I went to turn on the windshield wiper fluid, I saw a small card tucked away in my wipers.  The moment I arrived at home, I opened it.  It was an anonymous letter of appreciation and love.  Though I will probably never know who it is from, I know it was guided by a prompting of the Spirit.  Another moment of uplift and strength.  The beneficiary had no idea how awful my week was and how worthless I felt.  However, she knew just what to write and when I needed it.  Thank you to whoever that special person is.  

Amidst the trials and turmoils in this world, there are people who uplift and elevate us to levels that we could not reach on our own.  I love the goodness of God manifest in people.  They are truly angels on earth.