Written for CityGirlsWorld.com

While enjoying a weekend away in Western NY, I glanced at the paper to see that, not far away in Seneca Falls, there was a celebration of Susan B. Anthony and the women’s suffrage movement. The next day, my mother and I just happened to drive by the movie theatre and made a last minute decision to see The Help. Both of these struck a deep chord with me.

Growing up as the oldest of four children whose parents were only 20 years older than myself, I was raised in a time where girls were expected to go to college after high school. Being from the country, I found that most girls my age weren’t finishing more than a year or two before becoming wives and mothers and spending their days at home. Although my mother was one of those high school graduates turned wife and mother, she was the voice that told me it wasn’t necessary to find a man and have children. A career should be my focus, not someone else.

Looking back to the early 1900’s when women’s suffrage was at its height, we see women who turned against the grain and fought for our rights, careers, choices, and futures. These women were different from those of their time because they were single (gasp!) and didn’t do what was expected of them. Moving forward to the 1960’s era of housewives depicted in The Help, we see women who went to college to get their “Mrs.” degree. They chose men who could take care of them & hired maids to take care of their children, cooking and cleaning while they played Bridge and setup charity events. Their education became useless.

Now we see women taking on corporate executive positions and leading non-profits instead of being someone’s Gal Friday. Women are taking bigger entrepreneurial risks and leading the way for the younger generations to prove that we can do more with less. We’re getting seats at the table now, but asLeslie Bradshaw asks “is that really enough?” Studies are showing that many women leave work before they leave work. Most of the time it’s due to getting married and planning for children. They don’t ask for raises or promotions because they plan to leave the workforce to stay at home with their future little ones. And then women complain that we’re not getting paid or treated equally.

Finding myself looking at my 30’s with great excitement for what’s to come, I see a woman not unlike the main character, Skeeter, in The Help. A young woman wanting to change the world, wanting to find her space by helping others. This gumption-filled character who went outside the confines of ‘normal’ and proved herself by taking a stand for others. She is someone to look up to, to become more like, to be humbled by. She’s the woman I want my nieces and nephews to look up to and my parents to be proud of.

About 10 years ago my mom had a conversation with a friend of hers who was single, 35 and waiting. She hadn’t even bought towels because she thought you had to be married to get towels as a wedding gift. My mom told her she needed to go do things because she wanted to. So, she went to Honduras on a missions trip, bought a house, finally bought towels and became happy with her life. She’d always been waiting for someone to be happy with and realized her life was waiting for her instead.

As a woman who seems to have it all together, I wonder why this notion of ‘what’s next’ keeps me searching for a ’someone’. Why is the next step always marriage and/children? Why can’t a big career and amazing friends/family be enough? Why is there always the comment “Oh, you’re pretty. You’ll find someone.”?

 It may not be 1890 or 1960 but we still have the requirement of marriage surrounding us as women. We’re taught to be independent and to find ourselves but when will we stop being looked at like there’s something wrong with us if we choose to be alone. Our lives aren’t based on our careers, but the end game always seems to be settling down. I look at the lives of most married women and see them looking at my life with wonderment. I think I’ll just keep on keeping on and see where life takes me next instead of trying to fit a mold the women of the 20’s & 60’s tried to break for me.

The other day I found a Wonder Woman for President t-shirt. At the bottom it says ‘1000 years in the future.’ I bought it. My friend Claudia, a fellow business owner, swears I am Wonder Woman between my height and insatiable energy for life and business. As much as business owners were mostly male even just 20 years ago, the world is changing and women are needing to be everything to everyone. It’s definitely not a man’s world anymore but I’ve learned a lot of valuable superhero lessons recently.

Wonder Woman helped everyone.

Running a business that focuses on helping small businesses and non-profits has brought me clients of all shapes and sizes. We don’t discriminate unless someone doesn’t fit our business model or company values. Being a woman entrepreneur has brought me to the attention of other woman business owners and many of those clients have become great friends. Others have given lip service about being supportive of fellow women and proved otherwise when needed. Superhero lesson #1: Be supportive and mean it.

Wonder Woman never seemed to age.

Running a business has already started taking a toll on me physically. Although I feel like I’m still 22, the reality of being 30 with a 24/7 venture is setting in rapidly. Lack of sleep, trying to exercise, focusing on clients instead of myself, hiring & growing the team, making sure dogs get attention, and finding time to Skype with my long-distance boyfriend are enough to make me feel like I should be retired already. I find wrinkles and white hairs more rapidly than I did when I was working a cushy job for someone else. Wonder Woman wouldn’t let this get her down. She’d hit the gym, make time for her loved ones and find fantastic face cream. Superhero Lesson #2: No complaining, make it work.

Wonder Woman had superpowers.

Running a business, especially in the tech industry, has made me stand out more than many of my other female colleagues. Tech is still a man’s business. But not for long. I recently went to a tech conference where I was one of three women and the organizer asked me if I was “getting anything out of it as a designer.” Since he seemed to be putting me in my place, I took a step back and realized something. Wonder Woman would have just smirked and walked away knowing full well she could have hit him with her lasso. She would just keep at it and forget he ever said it. Superhero Lesson #3: Never fight back, just soar.

Wonder Woman was a powerhouse.

Running a business is just like running a race. You train by starting small and gradually going further. Beginning with the idea that you can do it, you set out on a journey to accomplish a goal. This goal is one that will never actually be completed. Every time you go for a run, it’s harder and longer and you get stronger. Every time you run a race you find you have to enter another to beat your time. The finish line is never the end, it’s just one more step to accomplishing more. Helping others along the way and encouraging others to do better will not only make you a stronger runner (and business owner), it’ll make you a better person.  Wonder Woman would never do anything to beat someone else, only to make herself better by helping them cross the finish line. Superhero Lesson #4: Work on your own goals but always lend a hand to others.

We’re in this together, ladies and we’re not alone. Ask for help, help others and be a woman of Wonder Woman’s stature. Don’t forget about the men… they can be the most supportive!

Written for City Girl's World.
Originally posted on May 5, 2011: Wonder Woman for President

As a Christian, I've heard the words 'garbage in, garbage out' most of my life. Usually it was a pastor or a mother telling us as youth that the music we listened to or books we read or people we hung out with are going to cause destruction in our lives. Since most of us as kids don't listen to the people who tell us 'no,' I felt I could do what I wanted without worry of consequences. I was my own person and knew who I could hang out with, what I could listen to, what I could read and how I was going to act without their influences. Sometimes our elders are right... 

music
Music has always been one of my top passions. I love going to concerts, I have to have music playing all day, I wake up to music, I sing at church every week as the Music Director, I just love music. All styles, all types, all kinds, doesn't matter. I love dance music, heavy beats, stuff that makes me want to jump around. Mainstream music has been becoming more overtly sexual with every new song that comes out. I catch myself singing the words and realize it says nothing about who I am or what I believe in. It actually says the opposite and many times it's repulsive.

I've been listening to Christian radio over the years but found Air1 and XM's The Message along with the local station 91.9FM to be the contemporary Christian rock stations that had a great message AND a great beat. I never got into gospel or traditional church music (hymns and things) but with the upbeat, positive message of these stations I was able to get my music fix while not worrying about the words coming out of my mouth. 

Don't get me wrong... I still listen to mainstream music and there's a lot of great stuff but sometimes I don't 'feel like a plastic bag floating through the wind.' I feel like I'm being lifted up and I'd rather have those words stuck in my head.

food
Recently I've been noticing that all the working out I've been doing hasn't been helping me as much as I expected. My legs and arms are getting toned but my middle isn't. There are muscles under there but a nice layer of fat has formed causing them not to show. This theory applies even to my body. When I eat a box of Girl Scout cookies and go for a run, it's not going to help with what I really want it to. The garbage I put into my body causes me to see where it's going while the positive things I'm doing for myself can't seem to balance it out. Everyone says that it's 80% how you eat and 20% how you work out.

I'm putting myself on a strict low carb, low sugar diet to help myself curb my cravings for sugar. At 30 without children, I should be able to keep myself lean and healthy but if I keep stuffing confections and pizza down my throat, I'll just keep finding that my muffin-top is getting bigger.

words
I may be a Christian but I've always had the mouth of a sailor. I'm not sure if it was because I was being rebellious due to the fact that we weren't even aloud to say 'awesome' growing up (because only God is awesome) but I definitely felt like I fit into who I hung out with by dropping the f* bomb without even thinking about it. 

For Lent this year, I gave up swearing. Teresa told me a story about a kid in college she knew who touted that his father was a Christian but that he swore because nothing in the Bible said he couldn't. Teresa's response was: You're right but it's terribly disrespectful to the people around you. No more nasty, foul words.  

people
I am a very social person and a connector of people. I love meeting people and making them part of my social circle. Not long ago I realized that I was being overly friendly and just letting anyone who wanted to be a part of my life... not just as an acquaintance but as a friend. Some of those people pushed my bad habits to the max and I found myself doing things I wasn't proud of. No one made me do anything I didn't want to do but they reinforced the things I shouldn't be doing. Slowly I noticed they started weeding themselves out of my life and now my close friends are people who help me grow, not keep me heading down a destructive path.

At work I noticed that when I allowed certain people to be my clients I was angry more often than if I worked with the people who gave me a positive feeling. Those frustrating clients caused me to say and do things I normally wouldn't do and brought my entire attitude down. Thankfully I've been learning how to spot them recently and clear them out before they become my nightmare. 

Overall, my mother and my youth pastor were right. If you hang out with people who are rude to others, you'll find that you're being rude to others too. If you listen to music that doesn't send the message you want your life to show, you'll find it's the soundtrack of your life. If you eat unhealthy, you'll find that you can't fit into your jeans. If you say disrespectful things, your mother will end up hanging up on you.

Time to clear it out and clean it up. I'm on a mission. Now it's your turn. 

by Annie Lynsen

Look at this girl with huge, frizzy hair, oversized glasses, and that special, awkward grin only adolescence and a mouthful of braces can bring. That was me in junior high - the typical, awkward teen.

Astonishingly, I didn't get a lot of dates then. I wasn't one of the "pretty-pretties" - the popular girls, the cheerleaders. In retrospect my body was pretty amazing - I was a dancer, and didn't surpass 110 pounds until high school - but I hated that I was built like a Skipper doll, with no boobs and no hips. My skin was pale to the point where my mom begged me to wear blush so I "wouldn't look dead."

But one day in my mid-teens I was reflecting on the story of the ugly duckling, and made a decision to put mind over matter. I was going to tell myself that I was the most gorgeous, fascinating thing that walked the earth, and my own positivity would attract others and make me "date-able."

It actually worked. Suddenly I found it a bit easier to make friends and started getting a date here and there. I was more confident, or at least appeared to be. What people may not have realized was that my "ego" was just a facade covering a shaking, anxious, insecure self-image, desperate for approval from her peers.

But even though I'm well beyond my awkward phase, I still default to vanity-disguising-deep-insecurity mode, feeding off compliments and other people's perceptions of my body to determine my self-worth.

Not that I haven't tried to build legitimate confidence in my how I look. I work out five times a week, and women's magazines always say that physical exercise makes you feel better about your body, by getting you to focus on the things it can DO as opposed to the way it looks. But they always say that in the same breath as a headline that screams "Get flat abs now!" And when I'm gritting my teeth on the elliptical trainer, I can't say I'm mentally marveling at how my arms can go back and forth at the same time as my legs…I'm more focused on hoping the torture will be over soon.

And the reason I spend 30 minutes, five days a week torturing myself in the gym is because, like most women, I went through the inevitable post-college weight gain that led to the inevitable post-weight-gain obsession with diet and exercise. I find myself fixated on my own body shape and size to the point of obnoxiousness, especially in the summer. Not because summer brings swimsuit season, but because summer brings…SCI-FI CONVENTIONS.

Yes, I'm a big nerd, and I love to dress up like science fiction characters. But as part of my body complex, I intentionally choose a skimpy or tight costume months ahead of convention season, then use the costume as motivation to keep to a strict diet and exercise regimen. To my friends' and coworkers' annoyance, I spend months openly worrying about looking bad in a costume I myself chose to wear. (I'm amazed I have any friends left, honestly.) But despite all the crap I put myself and others through, getting positive reactions at conventions is priceless to me. Having people ask to take my picture while I'm in costume, telling me how great I look…it feeds my soul in ways I can't describe.

I know I'm not supposed to define myself by how others see me, but darn it, I'm human, and I'll admit that when someone unexpected says I'm beautiful or flirts with me, it quiets the stirring monster of self-doubt inside my brain for a few minutes.

It's not wrong to enjoy compliments - in fact, it sucks when somebody responds to a compliment with self-deprecation. But I should focus on building my confidence more from within than without. So by way of this blog post, I pledge I will try. Bit by bit, I will start reminding myself that I'm about more than my looks, and that I don't need compliments to feel good about myself. The frizzy-haired teen I once was is gone now, and even if I still yearn for bigger boobs, higher cheekbones, a tighter butt, smaller thighs, and six-pack abs, I don’t need to put on a mask for people to like me.

I hope.

by Courtney

Of All the Things I Love...

...my body isn't one of them.

I love pearls, and my vintage Montblanc pen. I love Louis Vuitton, especially the Damier Azure Speedy 35 I haven't put down since the day I bought it. I love high-waist pencil skirts and silk blouses. And there's nothing I would rather be wearing than a pair of 4 inch heels.

Don't get me wrong, I used to love my body. It was, at one point in the not to distant past, pretty darn great. It wasn't awesomely amazing, but it was better than most. I worked out pretty often. I ate some pretty healthy food and some pretty crappy food. I did pilates, and Zumba. And even though I hated it, I ran long (ok not that long, but long enough) distances. I rowed, (the machine, not a real boat). And my goal was nice abs.

Then some guy backed into me with a car. One year, an x-ray and an MRI, three steroids (including two spinal injections), ten prescriptions, and countless physical therapy sessions later, I'm still in pain and I've gained a ton of weight.

I don't know if you've ever tried to work out with severe back pain, but I have. I promise, its not fun. Every step I take hurts and reminds me of how much I took for granted before. Before, I complained about running; now I'd give anything to be able to do it and not feel like death is a more preferable option.

Now, I eat air. I eat food too, but after I'm done I feel like I might as well have eaten air. That's what salad and fruit do to you. They make you feel like you're starving. Sometimes I eat pizza or Chinese food for dinner. But that's what happens when: a) you live with a man; and b) you have a 2 hour commute.

Today, the third specialist I've seen finally figured out what's wrong with me. There's something going on with my sciatic nerve. Finally, they can fix me. I'm happy, but at the same time I'm a bit scared. I can't wait to be fixed so that it doesn't hurt to walk for 10 minutes. But then comes the hard work: losing the 25 pounds I've gained over the last year. On the one hand its pretty great because I might be able to lose weight and stop hating my body. On the other hand, I might not be able to and I'll hate it even more.

by Jennifer

My name is Jennifer. I also hate my body.

That is, I hate my body until I REMEMBER.

Let me explain… I’m at this fragile state in my life. My self esteem seems to always be on a precipice. I am a 38 year old woman who’s body is beginning to betray her by falling apart. Grey hair has begun to make an entrance. Wrinkles now appear. And cellulite? Oh yeah. It is there. It is SO there.

I’ve struggled with body image issues since the age of 12. That is the year I first got my period and very rapidly grew breasts. (Much to the excitement of every middle school boy and to the chagrin of every middle school girl.) Sad to say but from that point on I was painfully aware of every female inadequacy that I possessed. Isn’t that sad?

I can count on one hand the number of times in my life where I felt confident and comfortable in my own skin. My body has never fit into society’s ideal image. And I have been keenly aware of that fact all of my life. It seems I have always been ill at ease with this body.

That is, until I remember what this body is capable of.

· This body has miraculously and safely birthed two healthy babies. It didn’t let me down. It is strong.

· This body has resisted major diseases and illnesses and way too many all-nighters. It is steadfast.

· This body has endured two marathons, countless half-marathons and one ridiculous 182 mile relay. It endures.

My body is not perfect. I am not anywhere near where I want to be. Intellectually I know that I am a beautiful, healthy, intelligent woman but in my mind’s eye, well, let’s just say there is a disconnect.

The challenge for me then is to not allow my body, my insecurities and my appearance become idols that take the place of God. It is when we remember the bigger picture and live a life of worship, putting God first, that there is freedom, joy, and peace.

Peace.

Being at peace with your body. Isn’t that a novel thought?

Just like with other aspects of life, when I lose sight of what my body was truly built for and instead focus on what society dictates, I become shackled to neurosis and chained to insecurity.

When I remember what this body is capable of and what it's greater purpose is, I gain a new perspective and I live free.

Watching little girls run through a sprinkler on a hot summer day in adorable pink bathing suits with no shame makes me shameful.

Hi, my name is Melanie. I hate my body.

Growing up, I was always much taller than the other kids… and much thinner. This was terrifying in high school because I was just awkward and… too tall. I was so skinny that in 6th grade, I had already hit 6' tall but hadn't yet hit 100lbs. Models are that size - makes me sick. I couldn't gain weight.

I noticed that even after college I got a little more curvy but stayed thin. You would think I'd start loving the body I was blessed with but I struggled with it. I wanted what I didn't have, like so many women. I wanted curves, I wanted to be short, I wanted muscles, I wanted boobs - all things I couldn't seem to get, no matter what I did. Looking back, there were so many women that would have wanted my body especially since I didn't have to work at it.

When I was 25, I was a size 6, had been building muscle, was doing the Abs Diet to teach myself how to eat healthy. Out of nowhere, I started feeling terrible pain and was diagnosed with a stress disorder that, I was told, was only held at bay by eating foods that were not touched by the sun. Because I had been eating so healthy, it was triggered along with the stress I was under. This meant no wheat, soy, most fruit or veggies, no chocolate or peanut butter, nothing healthy… nothing. I put on 20 lbs in 6mo and started hiding my body. At 27, I was up to 165 and felt terrible every day. I lost all my energy and just got into a continuous cycle. Few people noticed the weight gain since 20 lbs spreads out on a 6' frame but I could feel it. Sitting down, wearing jeans, putting on anything remotely tight was just torture. I hid inside myself and just stopped caring.

In early 2008, I caught a running bug. I felt better, little by little. I lost weight quickly and reduced my stress greatly. Races & goals were set, training and pushing my limits allowed me to see what I could do. Every time I hit a goal, I would feel strong and confident. My clothes stopped being loose and started showing the results of my athleticism. I projected the confidence that I so badly wanted. They say that if we exude confidence in ourselves, others will want to be close to us. My body confidence is and always has been an act.

Hi, my name is Melanie. I hate my body.

I am 6' tall, 152lbs, getting harder, tighter and stronger by the week. I am training for a half marathon that happens to be the day before my 30th birthday and the only reason I'm doing it is so I can look back at pictures of myself at 30 and say that I looked damn good. I am doing it for all the wrong reasons.

Every week I see more results from the 5+ days a week I'm either pounding a trail or hitting the gym. I see my shoulders getting tighter, I hear compliments on how much better I look, I feel the confidence I never had before because I was either too skinny or too fat for what I wanted to be.

All I see in the mirror are all the things I need to fix. My stomach, my love handles, the dimpled fat on the back of my legs, the backfat hanging over my bra, the things that NO one else will ever notice. I don't look at how I've strengthened my legs, I just see what I need to improve. I don't look at how I lack the double chin I had, I see that I have it when I smile too hard in pictures. I don't look at how strong my arms are getting, I just see the fat on the back of them that I need to lose. Every day I think about how I should be on a stricter diet, how I shouldn't drink because of the calories, how I shouldn't eat snacks because they're unhealthy. I am in an unending cycle and can't seem to get out of it.

Hi, my name is Melanie. I hate my body.

My entire life, I've felt like I needed someone to tell me I'm beautiful so I could feel beautiful. I don't have the pain of having parents who didn't tell me - they did! They still do. I am the critical woman in the mirror. I know I am strong-willed - I'm a business owner. I know I have what it takes to make things happen - I connect people every day. I know that I have confidence - I speak at impromptu events where people need to learn from me. I am a strong, incredible woman with a lot to offer… yet I can't seem to figure out how to run without the narcissistic reasoning.

I am changing my way of thinking - just by saying this to whoever is reading. My new goal is to hit the gym & run, not to look better naked or in my bathroom mirror, but to find the confidence in my body that I am so greatly lacking. Not to be thinner, not to lose weight, but to be more disciplined. I am also realizing that my discipline will need to carry over into the other parts of my life… but more on that next time.

If you take anything from this, realize that you are an incredible woman. No matter what you've been told, no matter what you think about yourself. You are what God made you to be and if you're living that 'you', you're exactly what you should be. Love it. Once you love yourself, others will want to be close to you.

Hi, my name is Melanie. I will start loving my body.