If you’ve been following me for a while, you know how God brought me out of a lifestyle that was killing my soul and spirit, stopping my destiny. I worked for twelve years as a stripper, three years as a Playboy model and two years as a Hooters waitress.
I don’t believe God put me on earth to be seen as a sexual object or to market myself as one. Obviously, I struggled with knowing my worth, purpose and proper identity.
When I was a little girl, I dreamed of becoming an actress or a missionary; I desired to serve the God who loved me but also loved the idea of jumping into another person’s life and story. I was so miserable in my own skin.
People assume for you to become a stripper or a model, you start off with confidence, But the reality is, most girls begin those jobs with desperation. We long to be seen, valued and cared for. Eventually, over time, this longing morphs into desire for power, control, greed and vanity. At least, this is how the devil worked in my life.
In my pursuit to be loved or noticed, I learned I wasn’t acceptable the way I was. I needed to fit into my modeling agent’s version of what was good. So, I cut my hair, changed my makeup, lost the weight, took acting classes and did what was asked of me (if I could afford it).For me, making these changes wasn’t difficult because I was young and unsure of who I was. All I knew was I hated my circumstance, and I wanted out. I desperately wanted out.
The devil can taste your desperation and don’t think that won’t be leveraged against you! Opportunities to make good money came and I took them, not fully understanding the cost.
The hard part about being voted Playboy fan favorite or the Top girl at the club, is there was always someone new competing for your position. I could never relax or enjoy my place.The thinner I got, the more jobs I booked! This was the positive reinforcement I needed to lean into my already disordered eating.
If I had a big photo shoot coming up, I would work out twice a day, about four hours in a day. I recall while running on the treadmill, looking in the mirror just loathing what I saw. I was fueled by self-hatred which kept me going. “I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.” Chanting to the rhythm of my feet pounding the treadmill.
The whole time I danced, I can honestly say I’ve never done drugs or even drank.I was addicted to Diet Coke and Hydroxycut, a workout supplement (that got banned in the early two thousands.) When it got banned, I discovered that much of the same ingredients were in over-the counter tablets sold to truck drivers in Indiana. So, I made sure to stock up whenever I passed through.
If anyone asked, I wouldn’t dare say I was addicted but if anyone tried taking these away, I knew wouldn’t be able to function. I wasn’t just addicted to the energy but the accolades. The approval from others felt too good to give up.
When I gave Jesus my life, He told me to walk away from everything; my job, my marriage and even the pills that were supplying me with the fuel to slowly kill myself. God told me to walk away from it all. I knew I heard clearly from Him. I was scared to make these changes, but I gave Him my life and I knew doing things my way had not gotten me anywhere good. It was time to really give God everything.
God softened my husband’s heart, and he agreed to let me quit my job, deciding to stay in our marriage. Now, it was up to me to give up the little pills that got me through the night of dancing and all those hours of working out.
I trashed all but three pills I tucked safely away in a dainty little box. (Just in case I had a meltdown.)
Daily, God gave me the strength and the energy to push through the tiredness and headaches and keep pressing into health and wholeness. I didn’t need those pills to make me feel better about myself. I needed to know who I was and why God created me; to lean into the love and care of my heavenly father.
Years later, as I was going through some old drawers, I found that pill box with those three pills. It has been over a decade since I’ve thought about those dark days where I hated myself so much I couldn’t even walk past a mirror.
There was a span of about seven years of my life where I refused to take pictures, so I lost documentation of that time period. The self-loathing was on the next level. I’m not proud of that time in my life; and I’m so grateful for the patience and care of my heavenly Father. It has taken a lot to get to that place where I don’t live ashamed or in hiding. It has taken a lot to get where I am today.
I’m sharing this story because it hasn’t been easy; it’s been such a process of trusting in God, then focusing on my shortcomings, then reminding myself of who God is and continuing to focus. Focus. Focus on that.
If any of you are in the fight to believe God can set you free from self-hate, then pray with me.
“Heavenly Father,
You are the master creator! What you create and call good…is good!
Forgive me for the sin of self-loathing for this is an insult to the unique and precious gift of my life.
Lord, I repent for cursing my life with my own words and mouth; forgive me and wash me clean. Reverse every curse and remove every stronghold.
Open my eyes to see the beauty of who I am in you. Let me not only see this in myself but be able to recognize and call it out in others.
If I am a light to this world, don’t let me quench myself!
Let every area of discouragement or deception, be a trophy of victory for myself and others.
The spirit of death longs to steal my joy and strength; burdening me with the crushing pressure of never being enough.
Lord, why have you created me?
Let me be satisfied with your approval for this is all I need.
In Jesus’ name and for your glory, I give you permission to finish my story. Amen.”
