Why?

by Cece

When I was a little girl I was always asking why. It was one of my favorite words. And even now, as a teenager, I still like to wonder why. But this time, there is no innocence to the seemingly harmless question. There is a darkness to it. 

In the seventh grade, I went through a depression stage. I felt like nobody was on my side. I decided to try cutting myself. I mean, people were talking about how it would relieve them from pain, so I thought, ‘Why not.’ I got home and tried it. I started bleeding a lot, and I couldn’t stop crying. I thought I had hit something important. I got up and wrapped my arm up tightly, then went to clean up the mess. I made a vow to never cut myself again. It hurt, and it only made me feel worse.

Fast forward to a few months later. My boyfriend dumped for a girl who hated me, my best friend was spreading rumors about me, and on top of all of that, I was getting notes in my locker telling me I was ugly, useless, and stupid. One note told me to kill myself, that it would make everyone’s life easier. 

So that is what I did, or at least tried to do. But I was too scared, so at the very last second, I chickened out.

From that point on, I felt like nothing. I hated myself and everyone around me. I forgot that I had a mother, father, and two brothers who loved me. All I could do was ask myself, 'Why?' Why would God do this too me? Why would He put me through pain, make me suffer and hate myself? I thought if He really loved me, like everyone says He does, then He wouldn’t make anyone go through that. 

Then I realized something. I was being selfish.

God allows me and others to endure pain and misery to be an example. I could help and reach out to young girls who hate themselves just as much as I hated myself. I could prove to them that life really DOES get better, that all they have to do is forget about everyone else and picture what God would say if He saw you cutting yourself, puking up your lunch, or about to take the life He gave you. 

How do you think he would feel? Happy? Giddy? Excited? 

He doesn’t want you to be unhappy, it breaks His heart. God loves you more than your own parents love you. He wants you to trust in Him with all your feelings and regrets. He is just waiting for the moment when you are finally ready to share.

Editor's note: If you feel you might be at risk for self harm or suicide, please talk to someone. Tell your parents, your youth minister or sponsor, a trusted friend or neighbor, or a counselor. It's important to acknowledge your emotions and reach out for help. There are so many people who love you and are willing to help if you let them!

Fiction: Casting our her mound of crowns

     I stare at my reflection in the mirror. 

     My chestnut hair is shined to perfection, whipped around the back of my head to form a spiral bun. My clear blue eyes are carefully lined in black, but only on the top; never the bottom. Mom says it’ll make my eyes look too small. My lashes are fake, nearing two inches in length. My complexion: fresh and flawless.

     Leaning forward, my arms bearing the weight of me so I can look deep into my own eyes, I try to see who I really am.     
     “Nevada,” mom says. “Don’t lean on that counter like that. You’re gonna wrinkle your gown.”

     Now wouldn’t that be a tragedy? 

     “Sorry,” I mutter without feeling. I straighten my posture and smooth the lilac-colored gown. Mom is in front of me, inspecting every aspect of my face for the hundredth time.

     This is my third pageant this year. It’s only February.

     It was fun when I was, like, 4. Now I’m 15. I’m over it. I’m over being commended for my looks. I’m over being the one with the perfect smile. I’m over having girls jealous of me. I’m over having all this attention. What does it really matter that I was blessed with physical beauty?

     I tried to tell mom this. Let’s just say it didn’t go well. She was super quick to point out how lucky I am, and, of course, all the prizes and money I’ve won; and how now that I’m getting closer to college age, there may be college scholarships to win. Yeah, because I want to win a scholarship for being pretty. How does being pretty qualify me for a college scholarship? Bottom line: mom was not letting me quit.

     These pageants were ruining my life. I just wanted to be a normal 15-year-old girl who hangs out with her friends on the weekends instead of this freak who has to either: A) Practice for a pageant, or B) Be at a pageant. Heck, I’d even enjoy studying on the weekend. Then maybe I’d be able to take college prep courses and qualify for a real scholarship. Or maybe I’d meet a guy who’d want to get to know the real me, not just the me he can see.

     “Get ready, Nevada,” Mom said. “You’re next.”

     I take my place and wait for contestant No. 5 to return back stage. When she passes me, her glowing smile fades immediately, and I recognize the hollow look in her eyes. It’s the same look I saw in my reflection just moments ago.

     “Next up is Nevada Kelley,” the announcer bellows as I step onto stage. I turn on my smile and walk pointedly to the first X. “Nevada is 15 years old. She resides in Thomas City, Illinois, where she is a sophomore at Thomas County High School. She is the daughter of Stone and Nicole Kelley, and has two older brothers.”

     I wave at the crowd, scanning the room of strangers with my sparkling eyes. Then I make eye contact with each judge. As I move off the X and make my way to the far end of the stage, the announcer continues. “Nevada’s favorite subject is biology and she hopes to become a doctor someday so she can be a medical missionary.” Mom didn’t want me to say that. She thought it would sound better if I said I like English because I like to read. It’s a girlier activity she said. Whatever. Why lie?

     At the far end of the stage, I pause, and wave again, sharing my hundred-watt smile with anyone who would have it. “In her spare time, Nevada volunteers at her church’s food pantry.  She regularly spends time at a local retirement home to visit with senior citizens.” The parts he leaves out are that my mom is in charge of the food pantry, not because she really cares about needy people, but because it makes her look good. And the retirement home? Yeah, my grandma lives there. 

     I used to get a rush from being on stage, taking in the admiring gazes of the audience. I used to hope I’d win. Like really, really hope. I used to cry if I didn’t place. Then there came a point when I would cry if I was anything less then Grand Supreme: The one with the biggest crown and the best prizes. 

     Tonight, I want to lose. 

     I want to mean more to my mom than this. I want our relationship to be about something more than pageant life. I want her to ask me about school and friends, find out if there’s a boy I like.

     When I get back to the original X, I am handed a microphone. Speech time. I know it by heart. Mom would have nothing less. I smile and open my mouth to begin, but the words that come out are not mom-approved.

     “I have been competing in pageants since I was 3 years old. My first crown was for Cutest Little Miss Farmer. My mom dressed me in cowboy boots and a denim skirt and sent me up on stage. I smiled my smile and waved my wave, and I won. It was that easy.” 

     I take a deep breath, and for a brief moment wonder if my mom had thrown up yet. 

     “I used to love being in pageants. The thrill of everyone knowing I was the fairest of them all validated me. It made me think I was someone just because I was pretty. No one at a pageant cared what my grades looked like. I was never asked what book I was reading. All that mattered was my dress, my hair, and my makeup. Everything on the outside mattered. No one cared what was on the inside.” 

     I place my hand over my heart and take a few steps forward, peering down at the stone-faced judges.     
     “What’s on the outside doesn’t make me who I am.”

     I walk to the right a few paces. 

     “Right now, I know I look breathtaking. I look perfect. I could be on a magazine cover, or in a commercial. But who am I? Who is Nevada Kelley? Nevada Kelley has one friend because all her time is devoted to pageants. Nevada Kelley has never had a real boyfriend.

Sure, boys like me, but it’s because of my looks. They don’t know me.” 

     I take a deep breath and try to fight the pain that comes every time I think about the one boy I thought might actually like me.

     “Society today has their set of ideas for how a girl should look and act. We are expected to look like,” I pause and look down at my size-zero body, “Well, like me. Girls who don’t fit the mold are shunned and exiled in their schools, in their families, even in their church youth groups. The pressure girls feel today to belong is agonizing. No one cares about your intelligence or if you want to be a medical missionary. People care about what you’re wearing and how you’ve fixed your hair. A heart and a mind carry no value today.” 

     I take a few steps to the left and scan the audience. This was not your typical pageant speech, and they were captivated. 

     “But tell me this: What does this physical beauty matter if no one knows me? I would much rather have 78 crowns at home for my character than for my looks. My looks mean nothing to me.” 

     I pause, debating if I should really take this where it needed to go. Yes, yes I should.
     “If God appeared here on stage beside me now and said, ‘Nevada? You can have one or the other: Your physical beauty or the beauty inside you,’ I would gladly give up my looks.
     "But you know what? Most girls will tell you they would give up just about anything to be attractive. People look at your appearance. God looks at your heart. And I’ll take God’s approval over yours any day.”

     My smile had long since faded. I turn and hand the mic over and head offstage. After a moment of stunned silence, I hear applause.
     Shocked, I look back. People were standing! I was getting a standing ovation! Really?
     My spirit soared like it used to when I enjoyed this. I felt renewed. I was appreciated for being me!

     “What was that?” mom snaps when I reached her.   The scowl on her face tells me she wasn’t planning on commending my heartfelt speech. 

     “It’s what I wanted to say, Mom.”

     “It’s not what we practiced.”

     Tempted to retort in a way I’d regret later, I choose my words carefully. “Not everything in life has to be practiced.”

     She snorts. “It does if you want to win!”

     I shake my head.
     “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to win. I’m tired of being this fake person. I just want to be me. I want to be normal.”

     “Nevada, why on earth would you want to be normal?” She said it like it was a bad word. “You are beautiful! God has blessed you with this and you should use it to your advantage.”

     “No, Mom. You’re wrong. God may have blessed me with looks that are pleasing to the eye, but He never intended for me to use them to my own advantage. Anything God has blessed me with I should use to benefit others. And my real gifts are in here,” I point to my head, “and in here,” I spread my palm across my chest. “I am done with pageants, Mom. Sorry.”

     I turn on my three-inch heels and leave my mom to ponder what I’d said.
     No matter her wrath, I had already won.
     My true crown comes from above and it’s the only one I’ll ever need.

Now it's
your turn!

Stretch your wings and try your hand at writing! We know Mighty Strong Girls have stories of their own. If you would like to see your short story or poetry in the magazine or blog, email it for consideration to 

editor@mightystronggirls.com 

All submissions will be considered for publication, but special attention will be given to entries that show the realities of being a teen girl in today's world.

Baggage

Emotions are a huge part of being a teenager. During our adolescent years, emotions begin to fluctuate and, for some of us, emotions completely take over.

 

Itʼs easy to deal with positive emotions, like happiness and joy, but the negative emotions arenʼt so simple. Itʼs not easy to get rid of anger, hurt and frustration. The important thing is that itʼs possible to move past them, with Godʼs help. If we shove these emotions down and donʼt deal with them, they become baggage.

Baggage isnʼt fun. Iʼve dealt with baggage that accumulated over my transitions. The little things add up. I had thoughts like, I donʼt want to move...why do my parents think this is best? and Wow, all my old friends have moved on without me. Now Iʼm all alone. These were my emotions talking, but I didnʼt share them with anyone. I shoved them down inside.

 

I felt like it would be bothersome if I tried to talk to my parents or a friend about my feelings. Well, I was wrong, and my baggage got heavier until I could no longer move.

 

I guess the moral of the story is that when life gives you emotions, make an effort to deal with them, whether itʼs internally (with God), or externally (with a family member or friend). Donʼt complain over and over to yourself, because thatʼs not going to help. Moving is a really hard thing...one of the hardest things to deal with in a lifetime, and itʼs not good to isolate yourself.

Jesus Christ died on the cross for our sins, and He made a way for us to give up our bad emotions and baggage to Him. Heʼs waiting with open arms. He wants our baggage. Surprisingly, itʼs not pleasant to give our baggage to Him, but after itʼs gone, thatʼs when the good feelings start to return. Start now, say a prayer, and ask God to help. Heʼs always there.

 

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” ~Philippians 4:6 

Who do you give credit to?

We were down 56-51. There were ten seconds left and when I hit my three pointer, my coach called a time out. After the time out, the clock was slowly running down and my teammate hits another three to help us successfully beat a team that’s got a lot of talent.

 

For the next couple weeks, I was so happy we won because of all OUR talent and strength. We, as a team, did it. 

What’s wrong with the last sentence? Everything! First off, we don’t have any strength or talent without God graciously giving it to us. For the past three years I didn't see that it isn’t my strength, or my teammates strength, but my Heavenly Father’s strength!

 

As a Junior this year, I’ve decided to put my pride behind me and fully trust God on and off the court. Why do something when I’m giving the credit to myself? Doing that is like getting an A on a test and cheating off my neighbor to get it. It’s not my credit, but I’m going to play it off as if it is.

 

I’m getting prepared for a big year of basketball with my team. I’m practicing, running, and eating healthier…wait, who am I kidding? I love food, and I won’t give that up unless God asks me too. As I was saying, I’m giving it my all this year. I’m trying to be a witness to my team and my competitors.I thought to myself, "How do I do that without telling them about Jesus during the game? I got it! I’ll write verses on my shoes." I kept replaying this is in my head and realized that Jesus comes first… Always!

 

I wasn’t sure what verses to use, but two jumped out at me. "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is my strength of my heart and my portion forever!" - Psalm 73:26. “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.” - Philippians 2:3. 

I proceeded to write these verses in sharpie on the back of my shoes to remind myself and the others around me that all the glory goes to God!

 You might be wondering how this has anything to do with a Mighty Strong Girl, but I’ll just come out and tell you that my place to mentor and show who Jesus is, is on my sports teams. God gives us unusual places to be a witness, but it’s important that you are obedient to everything He calls you to do! Swallow your pride and listen for God’s calling in your life.

Swimming out of a whirlpool

By Payson

You're swimming in an ocean, just minding your own business when all of a sudden...

A WHIRLPOOL ERUPTS! Quickly you get sucked in by its amazing force as you struggle so hard to escape it's viscious grip. You go around and around, over and over again, but you get tired of fighting. You see no point in trying because you see no way out. Then, just like that, you're gone. You've been sucked in. Totally consumed by this whirlpool.

Could you see it? Could you see yourself going around and around this whirlpool? It's pretty easy to picture in your mind, right? Well go back up to that paragraph and read it again, only this time, replace the word "whirlpool" with "addiction."

This is how I visualize my addictions. I was totally consumed by my eating disorder. I was totally consumed with my cutting. It became an obsession. I couldn't escape from the iron grasp that they had on me. The farther I got in, the harder it was to get out.

But I did get out. You know how? God. God found me and put so many amazing people in my life. He reached out to me, even though I didn't want to be reached out to. God did the impossible. He saved my life. 

I could have easily cut too deep and hit a vein. I could have had a heart attack while purging. I could have developed heart problems because of the anorexia, or I could have succeeded in my two suicide attempts. But I didn't. He didn't let me.

Can you believe that all of this was caused because society told me I wasn't beautiful? More and more people are being sucked into this whirlpool filled with sick lies and twisted beliefs made by society. When will it stop? I mean, who gets to decide when enough is enough?

These "whirlpools" need to be stopped, but how? It seems impossible. I honestly don't believe that they ever will be stopped completely. You're going to face struggles every day of your life. It sucks, I know. But you know what really helps? Wearing God's armor. 

Ephesians 6:13 says, "Therefore pick up the full armor of God so that you can stand your ground on the evil day and after you have done everything you possibly can to still be standing."

God will pick you up. He will save you from the whirlpools of your life. He can do anything if you give your trust to him 100 percent. Had I not done this, I would be 6 feet under ground at this very moment. It's scary to think about really. But here I am! Writing this for you today, as happy and as healthy as I have ever been! Sure, I'm still struggling, but it's nothing compared to what it was.

God got me out of my whirlpool, and now I'm swimming free!

The Beginning

By Meg

Okay, I love telling this story.

On my first day of seventh grade, I walked into Athens High School more confident than Iʼd ever been in my life. It seems strange thatʼd Iʼd feel this way, but all my life leading up to that point Iʼd been unconsciously preparing myself for that moment.

I went into the multipurpose room off the high school hallway and walked over to where my new class was sitting. All of a sudden a boy (whose name I will not disclose) yelled over at me, “Hey, are you new?”

Of course I answered, “Yep, sure am. My nameʼs Meg.”

I will always remember that boy as the first one ever to talk to me at Athens Junior/Senior High School. Of course, for the first two weeks of school he thought my name was May, but itʼs whatever.

Athens High School was good for me. Thereʼs no question I have made lasting friendships there, and it felt amazing to have God work through me in others' lives, and to feel God working inside me through the people at Athens. My family found an amazing church, and we settled down on a 5-acre patch of heaven. I buried my fears and sadness about the move until those feelings were gone.

Unfortunately, the pain returned four years after we moved to Illinois. My dad took a job in Anchorage, Alaska, and we moved back.

Going through a transition takes something out of you. After moving away from all my amazing friends in Illinois, I feel completely lost. This struggle isnʼt just something that happened a long time ago that I can talk about easily; this is something thatʼs happening right now. And if you're reading this blog, itʼs probably happening to you, too.

The thing is, when God throws you a curveball, you can either stand there and let it hit you in the face, or you can catch it. Iʼm going to be completely honest. I let the ball hit me in the face. And right now, Iʼm trying to chase it down.

The first transition brought me closer to God. I felt like I was making a difference in Athens for other people, but here in Chugiak, Alaska, I feel totally separated from everyone and everything. Including God.

Now, Iʼm not here to complain. Itʼs the last thing I want to do. I just want you to know Iʼm not an expert on transitions. Iʼm still learning even now. Let me tell you this: Iʼve come to realize that sometimes what we feel isnʼt what is true. God is here with me, and God is there with you. Sitting next to you. Right now. All you and I have to do is go to Him, and He will give us rest.

Make an effort to like the new place God has put you. Who knows, He might surprise you. :)

Examine yourself from a new perspective

by morgan

We all have people we look up to. They could be your parents, super heroes, celebrities or someone close to you who has had a big impact on your life. There are some people who might even look at a magazine and see a pretty girl and say, “I look up to her because she is beautiful! “ I’ve heard many of my peers who will compare themselves to ladies on television or in magazines.

I used to always want to match up to whoever everyone thought was pretty. I wanted to be beautiful in the world's eye; God’s eyes didn’t matter to me. 

Why do we do that to ourselves? 

Is it because society has brainwashed us, or is it because people tell us we don’t fit the world's standards? What people thought used to get to me because I wanted to be perfect, but is there really such a thing?

In my eyes, a role model is someone you want to live like. A role model challenges you to be a better person. 

I was once told that you should make someone’s ceiling your floor. Those words have stuck with me to this day. When someone dies and you see where they lived at, you should want to start from where they left off and continue on the legacy.

“You have younger eyes watching you!" This is a phrase I am constantly hearing from the very person I look up to. 

How true is that? Whenever you are doing something, who are you giving the glory to? Are you giving all the glory to you, or are you giving all the glory to God?

Once I realized how true that statement was, I started living in a way that was glorifying to God and everyone around me. When I think of someone as a role model, I think of faith, hope and love. I want others to look up to me, and see who I live for and where my happiness comes from. I want to watch others grow around me, and I want to watch them give the glory to God in everything!

My goal is to leave a legacy that most don’t understand. I want to watch others test my faith, and I want to stand up for what I know is true. I don’t want others to look up to me because they think I’m good at sports or pretty. I want people to look up to me because I’m a good Christ-like example of what God wants from each of us. 

Are you a good role model? Would you want others to look up to you as you are right now? How can you change that today?