Did You Look In The Mirror?

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Before you get your panties all up in a wad and assume this is going to be a judgemental post about how women dress, please read it first, then feel free to comment…or don’t.

I grew up in the 80’s where the less you wore the better. We had holes in our jeans where holes shouldn’t technically be, unless you’re going for the red long underwear with an open flap in the back kind of look. Then underneath those “holy” jeans were neon colored fish net stalkings with matching stilettos. If jeans weren’t on the menu then mini skirts were, with the same fishnet / stiletto combo.  Our shirts were more of a crop midriff piece of cloth or another piece of clothing with holes cut into it, with our bras showing which may or may not match our fish nets.  Then there were the over sized shirts we would try to pass as a “mini dress”.  All of these outfits were complete with BIG hair and enough Aquanet to cover the earth, huge earrings and makeup plastered on our face.  80’s hairband groupy was the fashion.

It seems every decade we women lose a little bit more clothing as we go, except for the grunge 90’s…where showering was apparently optional.  None the less, we women are still losing an uphill battle when it comes to fashion and what we think we need to wear for ANY occasion.

For example: the nipple shot

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Ladies, unless you’re feeding your infant…keep your radio nobs under wraps. If you chose the shirt that shows me enough cleavage that I can see what you had for lunch by the amount of crumbs stuck in there, what are you trying to tell me?   What are you telling my teenager, toddler or little girl? Breasts were given to us by God for the sole purpose of feeding our babies, yes they are adored by our men who find our breasts to be “udderly” sexy.  Yet it blows me away how many women are “completely” offended by a woman breast-feeding her infant, but don’t bat an eye at a woman who meant to dress like this above gal showcasing her nipples.  Double standards? Maybe.

Next example: Stretch pants/yoga pants

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I remember when the women’s leotard was in fashion in 1981 after Olivia Newton John’s single & video “Physical” came out. Headbands, leotards and bodysuits were all the fashion…AT THE GYM! Never did we go out in public, grocery shopping or to the restaurant wearing that!  I had a much more crude picture as an example, but I didn’t want to offend any of my established readers. Bottom line: if I can see the details of your vaginal area because of your yoga / stretch pants, you ought to consider wearing a long enough shirt to cover that area or switch to looser fitting pants. Seeing the details and veins of a man’s penis in a leotard is scaring enough for a child, why do you think your vagina is any different?

Last example: the reverse plumbers butt

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Whether your cheeks are hanging out the bottom of your shorts or skirts, or exploding out the top of your hip hugging jeans WITH your g-string showing…explain this to me.  Do you not realize that no matter how long or for how short of a time you sit on a toilet you end up with a red ring crease around your arse?  Do you really want to bring awareness to your toileting schedule?  Do you realize how weird this really looks?

Ladies why not be honest with ourselves and admit why we would be dressing like this in the first place, or at least ask yourself the question and look at the real underlying answer.  The only answer there really is should smack you right in the face…ADVERTISING.  You dress this way to find a man, get a man, date a man and with the end result of marrying the man. Then once you have said man do you keep dressing this way? If you do, why? If you don’t, why not?

If you do, is it because he only likes you looking this way? If so, he doesn’t really love you unconditionally incase you were wondering. Or if you do, are doing it to keep turning heads?  This makes you appear to be very insecure and that’s sad.

If you don’t dress this way once you have your man then why not?  Is it because now that you have him you don’t care what you look like anymore? Then you are answering your own question as to why you dressed that way in the first place…advertising.  If it’s because your man said you had to stop, then I wonder why he asked this of you? Why was this dress acceptable to him before when he first met you, but not now? Is he controlling or insecure?

There’s no easy answer to any of this.  We grew up with clothing requirements the minute we were born. Girls wear pink and boys wear blue. Girls wear dresses and boy wear pants.  Us girls had to wear shorts under our dresses in elementary school so we could still play on the monkey bars at recess.  Clothing matters. It represents status quo, popularity and it showcases our goods.  Why do we women feel that we must dress provocatively to get a man?  According to God, our bodies are our temple and shall be treated as such and our bodies were meant for our husband’s eyes only.  We’re you taught this value or moral?  When did we lose this value?  Did this value get taken from you by your rapist or abuser?  Did your mother care enough to even teach it to you?  Did you even grow up with a mom figure?  We’re you not taught that beauty comes from within?  What are you teaching your daughter, niece, little sister, cousin, students or wards about how to dress and be loved and admired?  Do you realize you are a role model for anyone and everyone?

When deciding what to wear – look at yourself in the mirror, bend over, raise your arms, move around a bit…if ANYTHING is revealed, try something different.

I unapologetically believe that all women have a privilege and responsibility to be an example of strength, confidence and beauty – all of which are more adeptly demonstrated when we dress modestly and appropriately for all occasions.

I am over 45 years old and I didn’t start seeing this value until 9 years ago.  My body belongs to God, myself and my husband.  I find it better to leave a little to the imagination of what I look like without clothes on, than to advertise every inch of my body to the world.

Be an open book with your mind, your thoughts and dreams and aspirations…not with your body.

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The Pig of Teen Sexual Assault

I recently watched a documentary about teen sexual assault in today’s world and the use of smart phones and social media.

The title is “Audrie and Daisy” and aired on FX and now available on Netflix. If you are or know a preteen or teenage girl or boy, you have to watch this.  As a parent or adult in a young adults life, this documentary will open your eyes to so much!

Rape culture isn’t new, but in the world of technology that’s clearly smart and new, we ALL have to take a stand against it. I can’t even comprehend what I would have done if my rape was taped and plastered all over the internet.  I do know that suicide would have been pondered and most likely accomplished.

The bravery and strength these young women have shown by speaking out is astronomical!  The parents that have spoken out are just as brave and strong. So many people choose to point fingers and judge; WHICH IS NOT HELPFUL IT’S DESTRUCTIVE!

Please watch this documentary. Please teach the young people in your life about rape, sexual assault, alcohol, narcotics, safe boundaries, bullying and how to stand up for what’s right.

You can obtain further information at http://www.audrieanddaisy.com as its time to cut this pigs throat.

My heart, love and prayers go out to all these beautiful young ladies.

The Wild Pig & The Barfly

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High school was completely crazy!  I had no supervision once I moved back to Joan’s house.  I came and went as I pleased, no curfew and no restrictions.  A teenagers dream life! I was responsible though for cooking my own meals, cleaning the house weekly, my laundry, having a job and paying for my gas and car insurance.  I was handed a ridiculous amount of responsibility at 16.  My friends loved my mom because of all of this and I pretended it was amazing. Yet deep down I was frightened, insecure, sad and very angry. Little did my friends know I was envious of their required family dinners, doing homework at the kitchen table, having to call and check in after school and be on a curfew.

Let’s start with the free reign to do what I wanted.  If I was hanging out with friends my age, we were required to be to their home by a certain time.  Honestly I loved the freedom at first so I rarely hung out with friends my age. I was typically dating someone 18 and older so our nights consisted of drinking, sex and mischief. In the 80’s we could have parties that lasted all night without any cops being called, alcohol was easy to get and if a home wasn’t available for our soiree then a field somewhere was just as good.

Drinking and driving was normal. No other way to put it, we drank and we cruised, radio blaring Motley Crue or Van Halen. We drag raced, no seat belts and open containers in the car.

School wasn’t optional in my eyes, but I loathed it. I had ADD and didn’t know it, I don’t think it became a real diagnosis until the 90’s, so I was considered rebellious as a student. Teachers thought I didn’t care about my education, so they didn’t care about me. Very simply put, they never invested time in me. I couldn’t focus on reading as I couldn’t retain any of it. I couldn’t understand why I could read an entire page and not have any clue what I had just read. I truly thought I was just stupid and my grades reflected that. I had to take summer school classes after my sophomore year and a full schedule of classes my senior year to graduate with a 2.5 GPA.

I was wild and out of control. I had a mouth like a truck driver, my bark and my bite were both terrifying, but you couldn’t tell by looking at me. I was an underdeveloped skinny girl who had to prove herself as a badass, for fear that others might feel they could treat me the same way Joan did.

My mom, the barfly, despised me. She didn’t EVER want to be bothered by me. Thursday through Saturday nights you could find Joan at her favorite watering hole dancing and drinking the night away.  Typically dressed in a leather miniskirt, pumps, low-cut blouse, big earrings and even bigger hair.  Just picture Tina Turner in the 80’s and you have Joan.

It wasn’t odd that sometimes we strolled into the front door at the same time on the weekends, typically between 2 and 3am. Both drunk, looking like hammered shit and never saying one word to each other.

Joan made it clear that she didn’t care what I did or how my grades looked. She told me to marry into money because I wasn’t smart enough to have a career that paid well nor pretty enough to have my choice of men. No wonder I didn’t bother at trying to be a better student, mom didn’t believe in me so why should I believe in myself.

I have to say that writing that last paragraph made me nauseous! I couldn’t imagine telling my children this EVER! My two beautiful gifts from God are my life and I will walk through hell to make sure they know they are loved and wanted and worthy! I don’t expect them to be doctors or engineers, I just want them to be happy and to follow their dreams. To feel loved and be loved by me. To know they are worthy of God’s love no matter what happens in life. To be kind-hearted compassionate souls to everyone and everything they encounter. To know that love is not conditional from me nor God.

I deserved better from my mother, her mother didn’t treat her this way, there’s no excuse for her behavior. I was her pig.

The Promiscuous Pig

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Sounds like the title of a children’s book. ..in a jacked up sort of way it is.

Experiencing an abandonment in my preteens, then being raped in my teens coupled with poor self-esteem because I was never good enough for my mother and stepmother…I viewed sex in an unhealthy way.  My parents NEVER spoke to me about sex…NEVER!  Plus it was the 80’s where big hair rocker bands had women falling all over them, when MTV actually played music videos of sex & drugs with provocatively dressed women being promiscuous.  THAT’S where I learned about sex.

In a sick way I was trying to “make” a guy like me and want to stay with me. I thought it would happen through sex and that was my “tool” to get them to stay.  Well they didn’t stay, in fact they knew how to “use” me to get what they wanted.  Then tossed me away along with the condom we used…IF we used one.

Are you now questioning in your mind “how stupid could she be”?  I wasn’t stupid, I was uneducated, no one invested their time in me to teach me nor make me feel valued.  I know my reputation was dirt by the end of my junior year of high school, but that didn’t stop my behavior.  Plus I wasn’t the only one.

I look back now through my life and can see that promiscuity played a huge role until 10 years ago.  Anytime I felt not good enough, insecure, break up with a boyfriend or divorced…the promiscuous pig reared is ugly head.

Besides a bad reputation, I suffered and still suffer for my poor choices. I never got pregnant but I did get venereal diseases.  I first contracted venereal warts, treatment at that time was slicing them off with a scalpel without numbing, then cauterizing with a small burning tool.  Also used liquid nitrogen to freeze and burn them off.  Basically PAINFUL!

Secondly I caught chlamydia, which was treated with antibiotics through a painful injection. Caught this a couple of times.

My life long mistake was genital herpes.  Caught this in my twenties and has been a humiliating, shameful and destructive disease since.

Why did I choose pictures of Jodie Foster roles as my top picture for this topic? Because 1. She’s my most favorite actress and 2. These 3 roles defined me psychologically. I was a young promiscuous teen who could have ended up as a prostitute, I had a dysfunctional family who didn’t teach me the basics in life about sex and I behaved many times as her characters did in those movies.

It wasn’t until I discovered and learned why I behaved this way that I stopped being promiscuous. Not until I was in my 30’s. Then I discovered Jesus and learned that God loves me no matter what I’ve done and He’s not ashamed of me. That through grace He understands, but that it doesn’t mean I can still behave that way without consequences.  I learned why my body is a temple, it’s the vessel God gave me to be on this earth and I am to treat this gift with respect and love. Not defile it to get what I want.  There’s so much more there, but I was redeemed and still am!

Promiscuity will kill you, emotionally and eventually physically through contracting a terminal illness. Whether it’s HIV or cancer from venereal warts, or severe depression which could be a life sentence of hell.

It’s a pig I no longer wish to put lipstick on. This pig has been sacrificed.

Learn more about teen sex and promiscuity at:  http://www.troubledteens.biz/causes-of-sexual-promiscuity-in-teens/