I didn’t write yesterday because by the time I got home I couldn’t really type.
Holly and I gave our body image workshop and we had some amazing conversations with girls and the energy at camp was life sustaining.
I’ll say that again.
The energy at camp yesterday was LIFE SUSTAINING.
It was so much that I had to take about 20 minutes in the Reba McEntire Room of Self Reflection.
That is a real thing.
A volunteers only space, with white walls, a private bathroom, a fan and a comfy bed.
Reset. Recharge. Peace Out.
I don’t know why every place doesn’t have a Reba Room. Because DUH.
We moved our after camp meeting since the space was being used by the local PFLAG chapter last night. We walked around the block to Sauced and had some drinks and a meeting there.
It was one of those days that needed a few drinks afterwards.
But then I came home and I just unzipped and let it all pour out onto Mark. We sat on the porch and talked and laughed and I wept. We both wept. For this world that these girls are living in. For the beauty that they bring to it. For the strength and power that is flowing back and forth between them as they all experience brand new, scary things.
They are in a band with girls they never knew until Monday, most of them playing instruments they’ve never played until Monday, writing songs, participating in workshops, sharing safe space for emotions and conversations and NONE OF THIS HAPPENED BEFORE MONDAY YA’LL!
On the volunteer side, there is the same power and strength binding each of us together. There are high fives and hugs and affirmations and you may think it sounds like a bunch of hokey bunk but I am here to tell you right now, I don’t remember a week when I felt better about myself.
Today we were all really super tired. It was an energy hangover. I personally felt horrible until about 2pm. Just struggling. Campers were tired. Volunteers were tired. We drank so much coffee we were nauseous.
I spent more time with Reba today. Many of us did.
We have had two days of body image workshopping.
Today was a mofo. It was heavy. We were raw. Girls and volunteers alike. We stood together, in vulnerability and said to each other, to each girl
You’re Beautiful. I am beautiful.
I am not a description.
I am my own body goals.
Tears streamed and tissues were passed and yet we forged on. Pushing past the uncomfortable and sharing and supporting.
As she raised her hand and said, “they called me fat” I looked into her eyes and recognized 8 year old Misti.
As she raised her hand and confessed to feeling worthless I looked into her eyes and saw 15 year old Misti.
And as she spoke of diet pills and flappy arms and feeling as if the outside was more important than the inside for so so long, I looked into her eyes and saw myself.
At 25. At 35. At 45.
I don’t know what would have changed for me, for my journey that has been riddled with body image and self esteem issues, had I gone to a camp like this. I don’t know if I would have been the girl who quit eating anything but saltines and water and Dexatrim and Phenteramene for the two weeks leading up to prom. I don’t know if I would have been stronger in the face of rejection or if I wouldn’t have wrapped my self worth in a relationship.
The past three days have been chock full of love, and awesome and support and affirmations. The week isn’t over.
So I don’t know what my story would look like had I been to Rock Camp For Girls OKC… but I do know something would have changed.
Because once you see something, you cannot unsee it.
You cannot un-hear it.
You cannot un-feel it.
You Are AWESOME.
You are Beautiful in every single way.
You are not a description.
You are the boss of your own body goals.
You are amazing and strong and fierce and powerful and loud and important and
YOU. HAVE. VALUE.
You don’t even need a Reba Room to reflect on that.
*but it doesn’t hurt