It takes a pen, paper and maybe a glass of wine to design and define who people think I am
. Give me 40 minutes, or maybe a little more. I must confess, I’ve yet to undress from the dress of deception I wore from the day before.
Who shall I wear today? A teacher or maybe a preacher
‘Cause in only 500 characters, I can create multiple characters. Characters, because I lack true character, in which I make up in simple wordplay.
 
I have no direction but expect to find vision as I write about religion and ask for His provision in every decision. 
I desire to inspire, but in the process, I defile the meaning of purity and integrity in my lack of identity. Still, I find no fault in me. 

I try hard not to be a sinner, but I’m more concerned in becoming thinner. Prettier, wittier.
Besides, I’m still His beloved Bride (only complied for an excuse to hide the lies that lie behind my beautiful eyes.)

 Yes, I’m a nice piece of plastic. Does it matter? People still think I’m fantastic.

I wonder what it is with our generation of young adults and this inexplicable need for pity. It’s interesting how people tend to equate sympathy with pity. A person once told me ” Lois, you think that you don’t need sympathy because you can ‘man the fuck up’ with whatever hardship you face.. but you need sympathy sometimes because without it, you wont understand how to sympathize for others”

For some time, I wondered if I had become someone who could not sympathize, who could not understand others.. but. I realized.

I sympathize. My heart breaks for the children who carry the cross and hide the wounds from their parent’s sins. My heart breaks for the women who hold on to their last string of purity because they have traded their loneliness for security. My heart breaks for those who’ve encountered death before life. Fear before love.

But I do not pity. I can not tolerate idiocy, and I dare not mock the dying people in the world by “pitying” those with paper cuts in their hands. 

So don’t ask me why I don’t cry for those walking around with crutches
because the ones that really need healing, will toss aside the crutches and drag themselves across the room with every strength in their being.

Those who are really crippled will mask their brokenness in laughter.

Those who are really crippled will mask their brokenness in strength.

I once knew a little girl.

On her seventh birthday, her father gave his beautiful daughter a special box.

The box was covered in magnificent colors, adorned with the world’s most precious gems

Awestruck in the sparkle of the box, the girl came to love her gift very much.

The box never left her sight.

She spent hours in her room uncovering the mysteries of her dear friend, submerging in its beauty- still in awe of her gift.

Days, weeks and years passed before she realized she could no longer keep her box.

On her 70th birthday, she decided to bury the box next to her father’s grave.

When she finally breathed her last

She died, gracefully and beautifully.

But, she never uncovered the truth behind her box.

She never came to realize that she was her box.

Like the box, she was beautifully adorned on the outside

but hollow and empty on the inside.

What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, know the splendor and glory it has to offer if he forfeits his soul..

And………………………… now back to stats.

Or as I’d like to call.. KOREAN SAUNAS. 

I don’t know why I can’t get myself to write a thoughtful, meaningful blog as I did on Blogspot. Maybe it’s because of this notion of being ‘followed’ Sort of creeps me out when it says ______ is following you.

But anyway, follow me.

So last night, I have realized why Korean women love the public bath houses, and it all came together through a conversation I had with one of my students, Kelly. Kelly is 22 years old, and she’s learning English to become a flight attendant (which happens to be the highest paying job for women in Korea). She was sharing with me last night that she had just returned from meeting with her plastic surgeon to get consulted for her eyelid surgery. She also had an appointment to meet with the dentist to have her teeth ‘fixed’ ..although they seemed perfectly fine. As I sat listening to her, my heart broke and asked her this simple question “ Are you okay?” Then, a stream of tears poured down as I shared “Kelly, you are beautiful just the way you are.”

I wonder what it is with Korea and this need to be MORE. Prettier, skinnier, taller, smarter, cuter, whatever. I myself struggle through these things, but man.. these girls are just crying out to be set free from the societal pressures. They just need to know, to hear that they are enough.

So I’ve come to realize why Korean women love these bath houses, it’s not really the fact that they enjoy bathing in the bacteria infested water with 15 other women in the room, but they’re enjoying the emotional, physical liberation that comes with it. Sitting nude is actually an act of reckless abandonment and utter surrender to themselves, and to the child within.

In the sauna’s, they don’t have to hide their layers of insecurities under clothes or their pimple ridden faces under make up. For the 60 minutes, they simply get to be who they are.. completely exposed..and just… relax.

I think women, especially young girls don’t realize the importance of being nude.. of being 100% who we are, without the expectations, projections, responsibilities etc.. What happens when we don’t wash our make-up off for a month? Eventually, there will be black stains on the face, the prints will become permanent, and our skin WILL suffer the consequences. Similar to our faces, I think that’s what happens to our souls. When we choose not to uncover ourselves and carry on all the baggage, we start deteriorating slowly. It’s important to see ourselves for who we are are.. our worth, our value. And what better way to do that other than being naked? Literally.

I like to act like a bitch to protect myself, to cover up for my insecurities. But when I sit in my room and remove all the bitchyness, self confidence.. I’m reminded that I am just the weak, vulnerable child I consistently try to mask.

So I encourage all of you, including the guys.

ONCE a week, get naked (I mean, literally) sit in front of the mirror, and look deep into the reflection. Yes, you will feel awkward, and perhaps even ‘gay’ doing it, but if you can’t get yourself to stand there even for 8 minutes, then you know you’ve got many layers to uncover.

Seriously, let’s really learn to be comfortable in our own skin.
Look into the mirror and ask ourselves, Who’s there? 

And then the wind whispered in my ear..