Disclaimer: This is not a traditional World Race blog.
It doesn't give the details of my latest adventure white-water rafting or talk about a meaningful day of ministry. This is something God gave me on a massage table in Vietnam, on the third to last day of my Race.
As the girl covering me in lemongrass body scrub made contact with every joint and intersection of flesh on my body, it was pretty much impossible to ignore that almost everything hurt. I flinched and adjusted so many times that she started to ask, “Pain? Okay?” each time she switched regions and found new bruises. My right ankle, from pinning my foot between my bike pedal and the sidewalk curb. My hips, from bearing the weight of my big pack. The insides of my knees, from sleeping on tiny beds and being compelled to curl and stack my knees on top of one another.
Battle scars everywhere. But even so, abounding beauty. And my respect for my skin-swathed vessel, although totally less than perfect, filled up my chest until tears pricked at my eyes.
I had never worn a two-piece swimsuit in public until I got on the Race. Weird, right? Maybe you're thinking that a mission trip shouldn't be the place for a girl to find freedom in wearing a swimsuit. But for me, it was a big a breakthrough as an addict flushing their coke.
I gained 25 pounds in the last 11 months. Three years ago, that fact alone would’ve derailed me. But the amount of compassion and love God has given me this year for my body alone stands as a testament that He can redeem anything. My body has been my greatest sacrifice during the Race, and also my greatest victory.
I'm not here - on the Race, in life, or otherwise - to look pretty or fit a certain standard. I was given a body to glorify God with. And He’s best glorified when I stop hating it, starving it, resenting it. He loves me, therefore, I'll love myself. So feel free to switch my name with yours and make the word “bikini” into any word you need to – sundress, skinny jeans, whatever. You know what that thing is that calls you unworthy – read this and know there is a God who calls you more than enough.
And if you know someone who needs to hear this, pass it on.
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Dear Kayla Elizabeth,
PSA: Regardless of what women's magazines tell you or what degrading memes appear in your Facebook timeline this summer, you are not required to have a perfect body in order to wear a bikini.
Women have overcome too much in society and economy to let something as pithy as bikini body standards regress us.
Your body is beautiful, no matter what. There is no "but". There is no "as long as".
There is no exception.
Don't allow yourself and your sense of worth be dissolved down to an assortment of limbs and organs. Thinspo movements like thigh gaps and "bikini bridges" blur the line between health and crippling dissatisfaction, passively and dangerously propagating the idea that women are more valuable by occupying negative space.
Your body is your vessel, created uniquely for you by God Himself, and you have a duty to maintain it. However, you are more than your temple. Your body isn't a mobility device to carry around your brain.
Think, while you can. Form thoughts with the God-given organ behind your face and speak the words that formulate with your mouth. Use your hands to reach out to the poor and run in the direction of the truth.
If you have an Instagram, Facebook or Twitter, you have a voice, and you can use it to advance a cause you believe in. If you have a social media platform, you can use the presence you have to build others up instead of tearing them down.
You're above catty comments and body shaming, both given and received.
Here's something I guarantee no women's magazine or online fitness forum will ever, ever tell you: You are flawless. There isn't something more you need to do to arrive.
You've already done enough. You've already been accepted. There is no one to compete against. No one will ever be you. No one else will ever be able to offer what you can.
When we buy into the spirit of competition that says "her body is better and more desirable than yours or mine", we are attacking the integrity of the very foundation of femininity: women are beautiful in their diversity.
As a society, we see enough degrading messages about our bodies, and plenty of companies are lining their pockets with the money they make by exploiting our insecurities. So do something radical: love your body. Honor your temple. Honor one another. Don't wait another day for permission to look in the mirror and be “good enough”.
That woman you wish you could be? Send her a genuine compliment, because she's not your competition.
Raise other women up; and in doing so, you'll find yourself raised up.
We aren't caught up in any movement that we can't influence, should we choose to. We create the tide.
So decide right now to accept yourself. And out of that self-acceptance, extend the love to others.
Your freedom could be the kinetic confidence another woman needs to set herself free from the mindset of perfectionism.
Because perfection is for Rolex watches and airplane windshield installation.
Perfection is also boring. You're not boring. You're marvelous. One of a kind, actually.
Wear whatever the heck kind of bathing suit you want and walk in the knowledge that you were made by a God who looks past the shell to the heart of the woman inside.
Love her fiercely.
Always.
