Never

When you was just a youngin' your looks were so precious
But now you’re grown up
So fly it's like a blessing but you can't have a man look at you for five seconds
Without you being insecure
You never credit yourself, so when you got older
It's seems like you came back ten times over
Now you're sitting here in this damn corner
Looking through all your thoughts and looking over your shoulders

How to Love, Lil Wayne

Growing up of the world, women learn to barter.

Our body becomes a form of currency.

A little action here, a lot of beauty, we're taught that the result is love.  Worldly love, of course, so it's not real love at all.  But it's the most real love we come to know.

At an early age, I was desperate to be beautiful.

The bullying began in third grade.  I was never pretty enough.

It continued on to tenth grade.  I could never be pretty enough.

And even now, in my mind, because of the lies of the world, I will never feel pretty enough.

This has been so long ingrained in me I have to fight daily to find my worth in Christ, and not in my flesh.  It seems like a losing battle though, as every day I wake up and so desperately search for beauty.  My hair, my make-up, my clothes, my body—I long to be accepted.  And, honestly, as I’ve gotten older, matured, the world has come to accept me.

Daily, I have old men gawk at me from behind the counter at work.  They stare at my breasts.  Young guys look me up and down.  It’s twisted, really.  Inside of me is a tiny sense of satisfaction swirled with mounting disgust in myself.  The desire to be beautiful has cultivated a vicious cycle—and one I don't know how to break.  I want to be beautiful; men in turn do look at me; I feel disgusted and responsible; and then I feel guilty and even more ugly, which leads me striving even more to be beautiful.

But this is what I wanted, right? I think, confused.  I want to be beautiful.  I want attention.  I want to be accepted.

So why do I feel so dirty?  So empty…

Men flirt with me.  They undress me with their eyes before they even know my name.  Married men forget their vows.  Young Christian men forget to flee from temptation.

Sometimes, honestly, I feel like a whore.  Jesus, I’m a whore.  I’m Gomer.  I don’t know what real love is, I run from it, I run from You, and I find what I think is love.  A friend just introduced me to Courtney Stodden, a mixed up 16 year old girl.  We women are so messed up.

As every day passes, my fight becomes desperate to feel my worth in Christ.  I fight to be filled with Him.  I am somebody’s future wife.  I am someone’s special person.  I…am so confused.

A long time ago I wrote this post.  I’m still searching for this man.  I’m still searching for the man who doesn’t treat me like an object.  I’m searching for the man who doesn’t find his worth in me, in bedding me, in throwing me away…

God, help me find balance.  I don’t want to be empty anymore.  And I definitely don’t want to be disrespected anymore.  Let people see me for my heart.  Please, God, please.  And let me see that I am beautiful to You.  Take this pain of the past from me.  And let me never have to live that way again.  Thank You, God, for loving the despicable, because that’s what I am.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17).