The Body

Mental health check. Wisdom.

Let me tell y’all something, straight — with love and a little side-eye:

I always was ashamed about nudity. Real ashamed. Thought my body was something to hide.

But the coolest thing? Having a First Lady who did everything I pretty much did and rose to greatness. Reading her book, she talked about why she did nudes. And it gave me such healing. It made me strong in myself. It showed me I could become greater from circumstances I walked through.

Because here’s the truth: shame don’t build you. Survival does.

I think about how I handled law enforcement — even that wild moment in Douglas County when I flashed my boobie to a camera just to get the door open to a better cell. Was it ladylike? No. Was it smart? Debatable. But did it work? Yes. And it made me strong enough in my body, myself, and my presence.

I AM STILL STANDING.

Law enforcement put me through a huge test. It shaped me. It gave me visions. It made my entire life flash before me — and instead of breaking me, it gave me strength. It gave me confidence. It gave me identity.

So hear me: Don’t you dare let shame keep you small. Don’t you let people tell you your past disqualifies you.

I wear the entire armor of God — which the Bible teaches us and tells us. Helmet of salvation. Breastplate of righteousness. Feet shod with peace. And yes, sometimes I had to use what I had to survive.

My body is not my sin. My story is not my shame. My testimony is my weapon.

So if you’re judging me? Check your armor. Mine’s polished.

Phd student. Daughter of a retired police office