Basically, this is just a little bit about me and my struggle with accepting the body that God graciously gave me.

I was always known as “the skinny friend that could eat anything”. Through out middle school, I could take on any guy in a pizza eating contest, I ate ice cream every night, I would have two dinners (one after school and then an actual dinner), and ask, no beg, my mom to take me out to eat because we had nothing at home. Granted, I was also athletic, never letting a season go by where I wasn’t doing a school sport (volleyball, basketball, track, etc). And honestly, I don’t ever remember getting on a scale, stressing out about the feast I had the night before.

Somewhere in the hazy transition between middle school and high school, I stepped on a scale and was ok with what I saw. I don’t exactly remember the number, but around 115. At the time I was 5 foot 3 inches, and I didn’t have a care in the world. I was so happy.

High school came, and volleyball increased tremendously in my life, along with the conditioning and workouts. Volleyball girls are known to have larger thighs and bubble butts, but I didn’t want that. I became scared of having that fate thrust upon me, and stopped trying during practices, taking things slower and less intense. That seemed to work for me, and I continued my pizza eating, ice cream binging, and fast food loving life… until about January in 2010.

(at that point, I was an average 121.. muscle and what not. And I was 5 foot 4) That’s when things started spiraling a little too fast for me. See, I had a new boyfriend who I thought I had to please by my looks, because I was about four years younger.. I wanted to look older, not so much like a freshman, and I thought in order for me to do that I needed to be beautiful.

I picked up running then, and also decided I liked veggies and fruit. It rapidly took a hold on my life when all I ate were liquids and smoothies, so that everything would “flow” easily out. I lost five pounds, making me 116 lbs. but I lost more than that. Friends, trust, etc. This whole “food” thing became a sick obsession, and I felt trapped. I confessed at church camp my problem, and tried to get everything back on board after a trip I took with my family to NY where I gained back those five pounds. Only took one week..

Things were smooth, and I learned how to control my life and eat properly without having food control me. I made my way back down to 118 pounds, and I was happy with that. Then I lost my wisdom teeth in the worst way possible, leading me down to the lowest I can ever remember being.. 110 pounds. I lost muscle, and basically starved myself without knowing after throwing up blood for hours and hours, leaving me dehydrated and scared. I stayed under 115 until the third week in January, about a month after the surgery, and spiked up to 120 pounds. And it’s so sad to think I was freaking out..

Well, I did. And began trying to make my way back down to 118. Started pilates, running again, biking, whatever I could to get there.

Then it’s hazy again, but this is how summer was in a nutshell.

I went to London after finally attaining the perfect body I wanted. No thighs touching, abs, a perky little butt… only to lose it all and gain 6 pounds in Europe. I was so mad that I finally had the perfect summer body and lost in in London that I refused to wear a bathing suit out in public ALL SUMMER.

In July, I went to Colorado for CIY (church camp) and due to me running in that elevation every morning, being outside all the time, lack of snacking constantly, and wild dancing, I lost eight pounds. I came home at 116! I was a happy girl.

And then I went to Joplin, Missouri to help with the tornado that hit in May. We were outside for four days, from 8-4, in 101 degree weather in sweatpants and longsleeved shirts, working and pulling away boards and debris. I came home again and found I was at 115.

You would think I would be extra confident, but I wasn’t. I was obsessing again. With school starting up, stress set in and lack of activity, making me, again, 121 pounds.

I didn’t think this was ok.

Not one bit.

But last semester I stopped weighing myself altogether.

It was until I decided to run a marathon that I thought it would be ok to keep tabs on my weight again.

In January, at the beginning of training for 13.1 miles, I weight 125 pounds. I had also grown an inch, so I was 5’5”. When it came to my marathon, I weighed 129 pounds, because I gained four pounds in muscle.

Now, to this day, I weight 127 pounds on average, and I am 5’6”.

I eat a healthy regime, and I workout when I can, but I try not to stress over it to much. And on days like today, after a binge the night before, I look at old facebook pictures to see how my weight journey has been. I can see significant changes from this past summer, but other than that, I really look the same. I just grew, up and out. But I’m still proportional. And really, I’m starting to like my hips, and the clothes I can wear with them. I have a butt, and that’s weird… but it’s one that runners have after running miles and miles. I see muscle on my thighs that are no longer stick thin, but healthy in their own way. There’s a small hint of abs on my belly, and my arms actually have some sort of definition.

In fact, I think I love my body now more than I have in a long time.

Let’s just hope it stays this way.

Claire.

PS. If you have some crazy addiction and obsession with your weight, contact me and we can talk it out. I want to be a clinical nutritionist when I’m older, and I want to hear your story so it will be of no surprise in the future. I just have to get used to sharing mine, and that’s scary. So hopefully this shows you that anyone can do it.

PPS. Psalm 139.

I’m not ready to be that vulnerable and open with my body yet. I’m so scared.

This doesn’t pertain to anything special… but OH MY GOSH SO CUTE.

(Source: disneyydreams, via designateddisneydriver)

I just finished watching Finding Neverland, and yes, I cried.

But it got me thinking of my Neverland, and what it looks like.

I know, I know, I automatically think of Walt Disney’s Neverland; a floating island with a rainbow over it, ya da ya da ya da. But, I was looking through my pictures, and I feel as though Neverland is where I am happy. Places burned in my memory I can never forget.

The first place in my Neverland would be similar to my farm. There’s a lake at my farm, and at a certain angle, you can’t see it. There’s a hill hiding it from the pasture that you must trek over to reach it, but when you do, especially at sunset or sunrise, it’s the most remarkable place in the world. Old fences torn, and old dock port crumbled, cows mooing somewhere, and that sense of danger from snakes or other wild animals wherever you move. I love that spot. 

The next would be a place that my friend Heather and I visited back in early March for a photoshoot. This place… my word. When you think “camping” you think of dead grass, tents, extreme wilderness… but this place simply took our breath away. The light was so perfect, grass so green, I never wanted to leave. I was happy.

After that, London. I loved London. And I went with my best friends, which is even better. We visited last summer as our final “trip” as Girl Scouts and every moment seemed magical. The pictures I show you are the highlights of my trip, and where I couldn’t help but smile. These are the happiest pictures you’ll find of me throughout that whole trip, besides goofy ones of course. You’ll see a beautiful picture of Oxford, me FINALLY crossing Abbey Road (huge Beatles fan)  and my amigos and I in Trafalgar Square (still my desktop). I figure London is a great place for a piece of Neverland, as J.M. Barrie wrote in while living there, and it makes me think of British accents.

(it seems as though I can’t add any more pictures… but nevertheless…)

Another place would be at the lake in my hometown. It’s a quiet spot where I was asked to be someone’s girlfriend my freshman year, and whenever I’m lonely or wanting to escape for a bit, I always find myself right back there. In that spot. Where he asked me to be his girlfriend and where we said our goodbyes as he left for college eight months following that. Where I had my first fish tacos with someone I regret ever saying hello to on account he broke my heart without ever having it. Where I have worshiped the Lord. Where I took my current boyfriend just so he could see a more vulnerable side of myself. This part of Neverland would be set aside specifically for love.

And finally, Durango, Colorado where I met the Lord face to face, and never looked back. I found Jesus there. And I go back every year. It’s a camp on a college campus that overlooks the quaint town of Durango, and a simple get away for a week. I can’t wait for that to come again, and after this year, I’ll only have one more time as a student, and hopefully many more as a sponsor. I understood what true joy was, there, and that’s why it is in my Neverland.

So, if you read all this, kudos to you. It’s long and quite frankly, useless information… but it’s apart of my heart and I thank you for caring enough to search that. I hope and pray that everyone finds their own Neverland, and that you pull pictures together every day to recognize those places. I’m going to start printing these pictures out, and bundling them together so I can always remember what it feels like to be happy and joyful, even on the rainiest of days. I hope you consider doing the same.

Anyways, enjoy.

I love you all.

Find your Neverland.

Claire.

PS. I wrote all this with a British accent in my head. Strange.

Reserving the weekend for myself, besides a few encounters with friends and such.
I just need a break for a bit.
Some alone time should do me some good.

Claire. 

I FINALLY GOT IT! I finally wasted enough time to make this video. :)

Enjoy my Peter Pan doll given to me for my birthday. I love it so. <3

Stay dreaming, nuggets.

Claire. 

staypozitive:

• Whatever you do, don’t just show up at their house…they run around in their underwear just like we do.
• Don’t cheat on them. It may seem foolproof, but girls tell each other everything about everything. Trust me, they WILL find out.
• Beware of every single male relative and all guy friends. Any…

The big 1-7. I know. I can finally see a rated-R movie in theaters. How awesome is that? 

I just want to take a moment and explain to you just how weird I am at this age.

1. I am regressing back into dreaming of being a Disney princess.
2. I get coffee cups and candles from over half of my friends because they know I absolutely love both.
3. My party consisted of eating fruit and veggies while playing Apples to Apples until one 12 o’clock, and actually cracking up because of it.
4. While many others can’t wait to leave their families and get out of the house, I’m becoming more attached as time creeps by to send out applications, and I’m already starting to cry.
5. I haven’t gotten drunk and I haven’t done any drugs… besides the antibiotics my doctor so kindly gives me (overcoming a cold right now.. quite lovely).
6. One of my friends got me a Peter Pan doll. Heck to the freaking yes.
7. I still sing Taylor Swift songs in my room and jam out to Hilary Duff.
8. I appreciate my dogs more and more everyday.
9. I am content with wearing oversized tshirts and Nike’s everyday instead of the latest Miss Me Jeans or presentable blouses.
10. I make weird noises, like background music or unnecessary “Oomfs”, “weee”, and “eh”. Think of Zooey Deschanel on New Girl.
11. I also use an assorted amount of accents instead of normal speech.
12. I understand I am not all knowing, and I am able to listen to my parents.

These are things I sometimes wish I didn’t have to deal with, whether it be obsessions, personality qualities, or the way I present myself… but I realized, that everyone who is in my life has stayed there despite all these quirky qualities, and they’re the only ones that truly matter to me. 

So, if you’re my friends that have stayed with me for being me, know that I absolutely love you. You guys are a blessing in my life, and I love each of you to the full capacity. I hope this next year is wonderful, because this time next year, I’ll be getting ready for prom and crying my eyes out because it’ll be the last “big” thing we do.

Anyways, hopefully 17 is one to remember. I pray to God it will. 

Much love, you guys. :)

Claire.

I will always dream of getting married and staying pure until I am.
And I will put everything I have and do everything I can to keep that marriage together.
I won’t give up.
I won’t take the short cuts.
I won’t take him for granted.
I will love my husband for all he is, all he was, and all he will be.

There you go, society.
A seventeen year old virgin who plans on staying that way until I walk down the isle. 

I’m an impatient person. I really am.
I want something done then and there, and I want results fast. I wish I could teleport places because driving there takes too long, but I’m pretty sure I’d find a problem with teleporting being too slow if the time ever came for that to happen.

I get angry quickly with my mom or sister because I don’t have enough patience to tolerate even the slightest second of silence or though processing. I just want the answer then and there. 

And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m bad at math because I don’t have the patience to go through the entire problem, step by step. I’d rather just have the answer shown to me quickly.

All these things are small, and there are many more I promise, but I’m an impatient person. And impatient people have a hard time giving up control. Which is what I kind of have to do every morning I’m alive.

I’m not in control here. Someone else far greater than I is. Right now in my life, I don’t feel like I’m cultivating or being fruitful. Why? Because I expect results to happen all the time, and before tonight, I didn’t realize I was in a season of merely growing and pruning. I need to figure out what is important and how to handle these things.

Another prominent issue these days is the frustration of my age and at what point in my life I’m in. I want to be in my third year of college right now. I’m tired of high school and having to listen to these ridiculous rules the district makes; I’d rather be at a time in my life where I am transitioning from learning to doing. I want to go ahead and begin helping people, not learning about precal or black radioactivity; furthermore, it would make relationships a lot easier to be in. Saying ‘I Love You’ would never feel too soon and you would be able to make decisions fearlessly because you wouldn’t be letting someone in too quickly. It would be the perfect time to go ahead and commit.

All these things really get under my skin, but I remember Psalm 27:14.

Wait for the Lord;
     be strong, and let your heart take courage;
    wait for the Lord!

I am on the Lord’s clock here. Not my own. It’s hard feeling like your stuck in the twilight zone, but it takes strength to stay there and let His plan unravel just as He wants it to. In a nutshell, it takes a lot of surrendering, something I haven’t been doing lately.

So, I guess here I am. Stuck between control of my own life or letting my life be controlled by someone greater than I’ll ever be. 

I’m going with the latter. 

I surrender all.

Claire.

Once again, I’m accepting the fact that I have baby making hips and that I will weigh more than I want to, even though I workout, eat right, and sleep well. 
PSALM 139 is all that will help me tonight. 

I absolute love this type of poetry. I could listen to it all day.

(via disneyforeverlives)