“Will not wear glasses because of vanity.”
That’s what my doctor wrote in my medical records when I was 6 years old. When I was 12, he told my mother I had anorexic tendencies. My teenage years were filled with anxiety about what I looked like. I could never get my hair to match the latest fad, I had problems with acne, my clothes weren’t as cool as the other girl’s in school, and I worried about getting fat.
The pressure of dating didn’t help either. If a boy liked me, I was pretty. If he broke up with me I was ugly, fat, and worthless.
At 20 years old, I was clinically anorexic. I was down to 95 lbs. My collar and rib bones jutted sharply outward and I knew I was too thin. It didn’t matter though. I couldn’t stop it. I just couldn’t eat.
My parents had me hospitalized and when I was released, I was put into an out treatment program for eating disorders. The counseling was grueling at times, but seemed to help. Gradually I gained control of the urge not to eat. I still wasn’t satisfied with how I looked, but the eating disorder and I called a truce. It never took over my life again as it had in the past. But the basic beliefs that I was ugly, un-loveable and unworthy remained.
I served a mission in Japan. I grew in many ways, including gaining 40 lbs. Again I was disgusted by my appearance but dealt with it by focusing on the work I was doing. It was difficult at times because in the Japanese culture, it isn’t rude to tell someone they are fat. On several occasions people mentioned that I had gotten fat since coming to Japan. The comments hurt, but I pushed them into the place I stored all the proof that I was fat and ugly; and kept working.
After returning home from my mission, I met a wonderful, caring and compassionate man. He made me feel beautiful, inside and out. He loved me unconditionally and we were soon married. Getting married helped take the pressure off my self-image. I felt loved and worthwhile. Still, on occasion, if my husband was upset or we had a disagreement, I immediately attributed it to the fact that I wasn’t beautiful enough and hopelessly un-loveable. We had 2 children and then when I was 28 years old, I was diagnosed with cancer.
When I found out I had cancer, my first question to the doctor was,
“Am I going to lose my hair?”
His affirmative response caused my heart to drop to my stomach. Never mind that I had cancer, that there was a large tumor growing in my chest, and that I would die without treatment….I was going to lose my hair! I was going to be bald!
I began treatment and had the toxic chemo cocktails injected into a port in my chest once a week. After a month, my hair began falling out. It was traumatic to lose large clumps of long hair, so I had it cut short and finally, I asked my husband to shave my head.
I cried as he shaved my hair off, but by the time he was done, I was resigned to my fate. I went to look in the mirror and was disheartened by what I saw. As I ran my fingers over my head I tried to accept the fact that this is what I looked like now, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I got sicker, my eyebrows began thinning and the steroids I was on made me gain weight. I tried to avoid mirrors all together. I was sickened by the person I saw. I was a troll; I was the hairless Gollum on Lord of the Rings. My energy level dropped dramatically. I was sicker than I had ever been in my life. I couldn’t even hold my children anymore. My mother had moved in with us to take care of my kids and me so my husband could keep working. I was completely dependent on other people. I couldn’t drive because of all the medications I was on, and occasionally had to use a wheel chair
During treatment, I was hospitalized and had surgery to remove my gall bladder. By the end of the two-week stay, most of my hair had fallen out. There were still some stray hairs growing like weeds out of my head. Frustrated, I took thick pieces of medical tape and stuck them to my head. Then with quick yanks, ripped them off pulling the rest of my hair out. When I saw what I had done, I began to panic. There was so much hair on the tape. I didn’t know I still had that much left, and I just ripped it all out!
In tears, I began to pray. I was completely and utterly humbled. I was at the mercy of God and with my bald head lowered in prayer, I was willing to accept anything he had to offer me: new hair, a healthy body, more energy, anything.
What he graciously offered surprised me. As the sweetest spirit settled upon me, I was filled with warmth and peace. I felt the love and glory of a perfect Heavenly Father envelope me with soft ethereal arms. I realized in that moment that I was of more value to Him then I could ever imagine. As weak and imperfect as I am, I knew that I was a divine child of God. I had inherited many qualities from my Heavenly Father. This inheritance alone, made me infinitely worthy of His love.
No longer could I deny that I wasn’t loveable. I couldn’t even deny that I was beautiful. God made me, and he made me beautiful. I had been beautiful all along but had never acknowledged that gift He gave me. Yet in my humbled state, I couldn’t lie. Even looking in the mirror at my puffy eyebrow-less face, the dark grooved circles under my eyes, and my shiny Gollum like head, I was a beautiful child of God. Why had I never realized this before?
It was because of my pride. Alma taught the Zoramites:
“And now, because ye are compelled to be humble blessed are ye; for a man sometimes, if he is compelled to be humble, seeketh repentance; and now surely, whosoever repenteth shall find mercy.”
Because of the situation I found myself in, I was compelled to be humble, stripped of my pride and vanity, I could no longer deny the gifts God had given me.
Is it a sin to have bad self-esteem? I would have to say yes. It is a sin of ingratitude. The lack of esteem for one’s self comes from despair. Moroni taught that “despair cometh because of iniquity.”
There are medical theories and psychological explanations for why girls become anorexic. Perhaps it’s in their genes, or because of social peer pressure. And of course, there’s always the unrealistic images in the media. But what I came to realize is that my self-loathing was a terrible ingratitude for the body Heavenly Father blessed me with. I had chosen to believe the cruel lies of the devil, who was so jealous of the body I had been given; he was determined to make me hate it, and then destroy it.
I had given in to the enticings of the world, being consumed with my outward appearance, giving into the natural man. King Benjamin taught:
“For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.”
I was ready to put off the natural (wo)man. I was ready to submit to God whatever he saw fit to “inflict” upon me. I would get through this experience with beauty, patience and faith. As long as I could continue to feel that sweet peaceful love from my Heavenly Father, I would not despair.
I was stripped of my crown of hair, puffed up like a marshmallow, and had my quality of life taken away for a time. But for me, this was the only way I was ever going to stop believing Satan’s lies, and realize how much God loves me.
I do not believe that Heavenly Father gave me cancer to teach me a lesson. It didn’t happen because He didn’t love me. It just happened. Bad things happen to us in this life. It’s part of how we are tested. But all things work together for our good. And even bad things can bring great blessings. I will be forever grateful that through that terrible experience, I learned to love myself and feel God’s love more abundantly in my life.
3 months ago
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