Standing in front of a camera again brought so many different emotions. I was afraid I would forget what to do, I was afraid I would not be good anymore. I was afraid I would not be filled, filled with the satisfaction that through a camera lens…I was beautiful. I wanted the attention, but only from the camera, not from the people around, not from the photographer, just from that little black lens that seems to see my soul, understands me, and pulls out a side of me that no one can. That feeling is what I crave. That high is what fuels the fire, a fire that has the ability of burning me every time I get too close. A fire that I have been fighting for far too long. Going into the photo shoot, I was prepared, mentally, physically, and emotionally, but it still wasn’t enough. With the first snap of the camera, I was sucked in. My veins filled with the pleasure of felling beautiful, wanted…adored. I was rocking it, and I knew it. I was glowing, I was delighted in, I was taking part in a fantasy I put to rest. I was me. I was happy. The side of me I tried to hide was coming back…but with the good, comes that bad. I could feel the insecurities coming to surface. I could hear the voices saying I wasn’t small enough. I could feel the eyes of the agents back in Milano, burning holes in my thin skin and shrinking frame. I was caving. I was letting them win. I was allowing words said 4 years ago to fill my head and find their way back into my life. The same event that caused such a high was creating an even lower low. Instead of craving the feeling of being in front of the camera, I was craving the approval of the pictures, the reaction of others…their response to the side of me/the talent I have been given but have to keep hidden. I needed the approval and praise to cover up the mass amounts of insecurities streaming through me. I needed the critical, judging, opinioned, fake, worthless praise of others, because they are easier to believe than the true, kind, healing words of the Lord. As pitiful as that is, it is true. It is easier to believe I have been created with faults and imperfections than to acknowledge that I was made in the imagine of my Creator. Understanding that I am loved, adored, delighted in and beautiful, whether I lose 10 pounds or gain 20 is hard. Having put my worth in a certain number has defined me, and letting go of that and allowing Christ to heal me, is even more difficult, but it is a work in progress. This photo shoot was a bump, it was a struggle, but nonetheless still a gift because I’m realizing I cant do this on my own anymore. So thank you Lord for the struggles in my life. For the trials, the seasons of drought and the years in the desert, for it is there that I am reminded of the never ending love you bestow upon me.