Ever since I signed a contract for Real Recovery: What Eating Disorder Recovery Actually Looks Like, I’ve been afraid. Actually, I was afraid before I ever signed the contract. I’ve harbored fears about writing a book, becoming a published author, and finding success. To be more specific, I’ve harbored fears about being unable to write a book, become a published author, and find success. There’s now a checkmark next to “write a book” and “become a published author,” but there’s not yet a checkmark next to “find success.” I realize that success is a subjective concept, so here’s my version of it: being a well-known, well-loved published author. And I haven't found that success yet.
Why are we as women so afraid to walk away from things? That's been a pressing question on my mind recently, and I decided to address it here because I’m sure that I’m not the only one who’s asking that question.
I wanted to open up about *why* I wrote it. I feel like the *why* behind a book is sometimes just as important as the *what* inside a book. Why did I specifically choose to write about eating disorders and recovery? Why did I write Real Recovery? Here are two of the main reasons.
So, when we have to make a morally neutral decision (meaning a decision that is neither moral nor immoral), we panic. In wanting to follow God’s will for our lives, I believe that we’ve gone from one extreme to the other—not caring what God thinks about our decisions to being terrified that God will hate our decisions. What if there’s a balance between both of those extremes?
While I appreciate the fact that Finding You didn’t have any sex scenes, I was disappointed by how unrealistic the plotline was. Main character Finley Sinclair had an unbelievably happy ending to her story. After all, what average American student actually studies abroad in Ireland, meets a handsome single actor who is smitten with her, and ends up earning a spot in the Manhattan Conservatory of Music? None that I know.
We’ve all heard that we need to wear our hearts on our sleeves and let our emotions determine how we act. But if you’ve ever been reprimanded by a friend whom you bared your soul to…if you’ve ever been ignored by a boyfriend whom you spoke intimately with…if you’ve ever been rejected by a mentor whom you shared your darkest secret with…then you know that wearing your heart on our sleeve is messy. In fact, it’s unwise.
So I have this problem—a problem of pointless pursuits. Pointless pursuits have kind of been the theme of my life, at least my life in the last few years. I haven’t pursued empty things because people failed to warn me about the consequences. No, ignorance wasn’t the issue. My stubbornness was. But warnings are warnings for a reason. This post is my warning to you.
Oh, to be at peace with wherever God has placed us right now. Oh, to feel full of life, rather than full of resentment. Oh, to know that this season is not accidental or meaningless. What if I told you that you can?
I’ve entrusted my heart to way too many people in my life. Thus, way too many people have disappointed me. Although this is difficult to admit, it’s partially our fault when people disappoint us. They can only disappoint us if we put too much faith, hope, or trust in them. No one deserves our hearts except the One who created them and holds them tenderly.