Jenna Turns Away from Cutting...and Turns Inward to Heal

As I waited for my next client, I thought about how fragile she was - at least right now.  I knew Jenna just a little when she was in middle school. Although I did not have her as a student, I remembered her as a vivacious, outgoing, happy-go-lucky teen scurrying through the hallways with other students whom I knew. She often dropped in my classroom during lunch, visiting with friends who liked to get out of the scorching desert heat and demonstrating her latest cheer jump for us all! Jenna seemed confident and self-assured.  I never anticipated having her as a client two years later. After Jenna's parents discovered that she was cutting herself (and had been for some time), Jenna agreed to see a therapist. Our first session a week earlier had been a brief meeting with her mom and dad, and then Jenna and I had some alone time, just getting to know one another more. Today would be our first full session.

As Jenna walked into the waiting room, I greeted her. Together we returned to my office where she snuggled into the large white sofa filled with soft purple throw pillows. Pulling down her sleeves to cover her arms, Jenna then cuddled with one of the pillows, gently holding it under her neck. After a bit of small talk and sensing that Jenna was feeling more comfortable, I began with a common question I ask of clients at the start of our sessions.

"Jenna, if we were nearing the end of our sessions together, how would you want to feel?" Pausing for just a moment, I added, "If this were our last day together, what would you have that you don't have today?"

"I would feel like I used to..."

Jenna's eyes watered.  I watched the tears roll down her face as she looked downward and clung more tightly to the soft purple pillow. I offered her a Kleenex as she began to speak.

"I would feel like I used to....ummmm...before everything happened. I would be happy again...I'd get back into my cheer...and I'd hang out with my friends like I used to... or at least with the friends who really care about me." Jenna sat up slightly, crossing her legs as she nestled into the sofa. "I....uhhh...would get along better with my parents...I know I have hurt them a lot...I know they are really disappointed in me..."  As Jenna's voice trailed off, I waited for a moment before beginning again.

"I hurt so much..."

"What else would make you happy, like you were before?"

Jenna's delicate hands stroked the purple velvet material clutched in her arms. "I would like  myself again....I would....ummmmm....respect  myself again." Her voice quivered as she continued, "Holli, I hurt so much inside....I can't stand the pain...I don't want to feel that anymore...that's why I do what I do....you know..." Jenna pulled up her sleeve just slightly, revealing the scars and fresh cuts on the inside of her forearm. As I nodded with understanding, she quickly hid them again. I waited as her eyes filled with tears.  "Can I feel good about myself again....will the pain ever go away....?"

Leaning forward in my chair, I spoke gently, laying out a few guidelines for our work together. "Jenna, if you feel comfortable and safe working with me, and if you will commit to attending our sessions - participating in them as well as completing any homework assignments I may give you - there is really good possibility that you will feel better." And then, I added, "You may not feel like your old self or like you did before, but with hard work, you most likely will feel differently - even better and stronger than before."

Jenna's eyes lit up, exhibiting a bit of hope.  "I want that, Holli,... more than anything...I am tired of hurting myself...and not getting better....I mean when I cut myself, it feels good at the time, but it doesn't make my pain or my problems go away...." I handed her another Kleenex as she teared up again. "I am ready...."

Jenna expresses her feelings in healthy ways.

Over the next few months, Jenna faithfully attended our sessions, trusting in the process of counseling and  participating fully in our conversations. As with many young teens who are experiencing tremendous pain and who are using cutting as a coping mechanism, Jenna at first found it difficult to share her feelings.  However, as we continued our work, Jenna  began to open up, expressing and processing her feelings of guilt, shame, and regret about her own choices. Continuing to trust in the process, she shared her feelings of anger, resentment, and hurt towards others who had hurt her - especially Mason, her ex-boyfriend. She disclosed how she felt betrayed - how she had been lied to, manipulated, and used by Mason. Over time, Jenna dug deep into her inner pain and courageously revealed how she felt she betrayed herself  by staying in a relationship that was controlling and abusive....and how she felt worthless...powerless...and then felt numb. Jenna described how cutting became a way to release all the pain -  and all the self-hatred and embarrassment that came with it. In addition to our sessions, Jenna committed herself to her homework assignments such as journaling and other written activities designed to help her express her feelings in healthy ways. In fact, she not only completed all the exercises, but Jenna turned to her natural creative talents crafting colorful collages and graphically-designed artistic renderings to express her past feelings and to illustrate her healthier present feelings. Although I thought Jenna was progressing quite well, I was pleasantly surprised at the end of one of our sessions when she approached me with an important question.

"Holli, would it be okay if my mom and dad come with me next week?  I ....uhhh... there are some things I want to say to them, but I'm a little scared...I was wondering..." Jenna paused.

Although I felt it was critical to include Jenna's parents in part of our therapy, I was waiting until she was ready. "Yes, absolutely, " I  responded.  "Let's talk for a bit about what you would like to accomplish...what is on your heart."

Jenna remained serious, and strong. "I want to tell them how bad I feel about everything...how I hurt them and disappointed them...all that stuff. That's important to me...but...." Jenna hesitated and then began. "Holli, I want them to know how I feel like I always have to be perfect...like I can never do anything right, especially when it comes to  my dad. He's so strict and if I make the smallest mistake, he gets so mad... and I just want him to like me...and love me for who I am."  Jenna's voice trembled slightly.

"Jenna, you've worked so hard to get where you are.  You've accomplished so much. As with all your work, this won't be easy...but it is important.  You've learned that bottling up your feelings doesn't help you....it hurts you. Your mom and dad need to know how you feel and why you feel the way you do. If you're ready, let's invite them in for next week...."

As she had before, Jenna replied,"I am ready."    

As I do with many family sessions, I asked each member - Jenna, her mom, and her dad - to spend time alone reflecting about and  answering three questions: What am I feeling? Why am I feeling this way? What do I need (for myself and from others)? Jenna and her parents completed their homework and came prepared to share their feelings, thoughts, and needs. Although the first session went extremely well, more sessions were needed in order to  create healthy shifts and sustainable changes in their rigid family patterns. Over a period of several months, Jenna's parents were learning how their unhealthy judgments, unrealistic expectations, and quick criticism impacted their daughter in extremely harmful ways - contributing to her detachment from them and to her fears of unsafe feelings about communicating with them. Along with implementing numerous healthy changes in their parenting approaches and styles, Jenna's parents worked hard and remained committed to creating a safe, open, and loving environment in which to grow and nurture their relationship. Jenna, on the other hand, was learning how to reconnect with her parents by turning  to them whether she was happy or sad, and expressing her feelings in timely, truthful, and trusting ways. In her individual sessions, Jenna continued working on her healing - slowly but steadily rediscovering her worth and reclaiming her voice.

"I feel different...and I am glad of that."

At the end of our time together, Jenna was no longer the fragile and fractured young female I welcomed into my office many months earlier. Her smile returned and the bounce was back in her cheer-like walk. And although the scars were becoming less visible on her arms and other parts of her body, it was Jenna's inner-self that was most transformed. At our last session together, I asked her how she felt - if she was the same girl as before everything happened.  I will never forget her response.

Jenna grabbed hold of her favorite purple throw and tucked it under her chin, smiling. "Holli, I feel different....I don't feel like same girl as before...and I am glad of that." Her voice strengthened. "I used to think that the thing I wanted most was for other people to like me...or even love me....so I'd do stuff that I didn't really want to do just to fit in or to go along with what everyone else was doing. I made horrible mistakes...and really bad choices...I felt so ashamed.  I didn't feel like I had anyone I could talk to...And then, when I started cutting, I thought it was cool at first...but it got out of control. I lied to myself... I told myself, at least I wasn't drinking or doing drugs...but it was still an escape - one that didn't help me but instead hurt me even more." Jenna hesitated and continued, "Even though it was really hard work, by turning away from cutting and turning inward to heal...I've given myself the best gift possible..."

Feeling the tears form in my eyes, I  grabbed for a Kleenex and waited for her to finish.  

I don't have to hide anything!

Holding the purple throw above her head like a cheerleader with her trophy, Jenna beamed, "I like who I am....I feel stronger...I feel free...I don't have to hide anything - not my feelings, not my thoughts....and most importantly... not me."

Note - To protect confidentiality, names have been changed and characterizations have been altered.

Special message to readers ~ 
When individuals are not capable of expressing their feelings in safe or healthy ways, they often turn to "cutting" as a coping tool to self-soothe or self-medicate those feelings. As with other self-destructive behaviors (such as alcohol and drug abuse) which are utilized as temporary escape mechanisms, cutting can become habit-forming or addictive in nature; moreover, it does not address or contribute to the healing process of underlying issues or causes. Counseling and/or group therapy are critical in intervening with individuals who are cutting. Many experts agree that family therapy is also an essential component in the recovery process. 

The behavior of cutting, accompanied with its painful and debilitating emotional/psychological manifestations, is a very complex issue and requires time for healing. This blog is not meant to give quick or easy answers. At the same time, many young people do not know where to start in reclaiming themselves. As with many challenges which most of us face - physical, emotional, psychological, and relational - it starts with a decision...a choice.  That decision or choice rests within us. We each must decide for ourselves that we matter. Yes, we must be the first to decide that we matter and that we are willing to make a change. 

When Jenna said, "I am ready," what she was really saying was, "I matter. I want to change."

I wrote "Another Way" so that you might grab hold of many empowering lessons. Although it is always helpful to have a parent, guardian, teacher, coach, mentor or counselor to encourage and support us in our journeys and tell us that we matter - in the end,  the choice is ours.  As Youth Pastor Rick Summers tells the teens in "Another Way"...

"One of the most challenging but powerful lessons in 'Another Way' is for you to discover that You matter. 

I can tell you, others can say it, but until you know and understand your worth, and trust in it,

your choices will never truly be yours."

If you are ready...if you want a place to start....I offer you 

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Corey Forgives His Past And Finds His Potential

As I was getting the DVR set up to show a movie to my first period 8th grade English class, I turned around quickly to scan for any potential chaos that may be brewing in the back of the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar yet changed face. For a few seconds, I just stared at him, but then he walked forward with his unmistakably charming strut, and I immediately hurried over to Corey, giving him a huge hug. With the girls blushing and giggling and the boys gawking at Corey's six foot frame, I returned my attention momentarily to my students, quieting them and introducing the movie - The Diary of Anne Frank - based on the play adaptation we had just read.

~  Corey -a familiar yet changed face ~

With my students engaged in the film, Corey and I entered the inner hallway of the English building, where I could keep an eye on them through the glass windows. Grabbing a couple of chairs and making ourselves comfortable, my mind went back to four years earlier when I taught Corey in my 8th grade English literature class. Corey was a complex young boy, filled with bitterness over a divorce, an absent father, and a life with a step-dad he did not want. Although Corey remained distant and detached from others, as well as frequently quite defiant, Corey craved attention - wanting someone to care about him - and most often sought to fill that need with destructive self-defeating behaviors.

                                                                                                                                         

~ Corey is filled with rage ~

While attempting to redirect his negative energies, I worked hard with Corey, nurturing and supporting his academic abilities and encouraging him in his athletic pursuits. However, my challenges with him were many, especially his explosive temper.  Many times, Corey would become so filled with rage that I gave him unspoken permission to leave our classroom whenever necessary, releasing his pent up anger by hitting his fists against the stucco wall outside our door or running out on to the large field next to our classroom sprinting mindlessly around the empty bases. Other times, Corey would stay after class or come by after school where he would sit with his head buried in his hands nervously running his fingers through his crumpled blondish hair, attempting to calm himself and quiet his mind. My words of comfort to Corey seemed mostly inadequate and inconsequential.

When Corey graduated from middle school and moved on to high school, we stayed in touch. He would drop my classroom every now and then to  "check in". Sometimes the visits brought good news: school was going well, he was getting along better with his step-dad, and his friends were cool and fun. Other times, Corey's visits revealed a series of set-backs with severe consequences: dropping out of school, messing around with drugs and hanging out with friends who were not really friends, and experiencing a resurgence of hatred toward his family causing division and grief for everyone involved.

As Corey and I sat facing each other, I recalled the last time I had seen him - just a year ago.  I remembered that although his life was not totally falling apart, it didn't seem to have much direction in it either. Therefore, I was anxious as he began to speak to me about what was going on. With a smile on his face, Corey described how he was attending our district continuation high school, maintaining a 4.0  and acquiring the necessary units for graduation. He was working as a life-guard at a large resort and practicing his beloved baseball with a well-known local coach. Corey took in a deep breath, displaying a sense of peace and pride I had never witnessed in him before. I waited as he spoke. "Mrs. Kenley, I have been accepted to California State University at Long Beach - well, a provisional acceptance until I finish all  my units - and I have an offer to play in a summer training camp for the Expos!!"

~ Corey forgives his past ~

Tears filled my eyes, as did Corey's.  For a moment I was unable to speak.  And then, I kept repeating, "I'm so proud of you....I'm so incredibly proud of you...." Leaning in, I gave him another hug, and this time he returned it fully. After composing ourselves, I sat back in my chair studying Corey as he pulled out an old yearbook from his back-pack. I chuckled to myself as I recognized the middle school yearbook from years past - Corey's graduating class. Unsure as to what was happening, I sat quietly. Fingering through the pages, Corey stopped at one and then looked up at me. His voice quivered a little, then regained its strength.



"Last year, I was ready to give up. I felt like such a loser....my life was messed up....I mean, I messed it up. And I hurt a lot of people, including myself." Corey cleared his throat. "One night while sitting alone in my room and feeling sorry for myself, I took out my 8th grade yearbook.  I started reading through it and I came to the message you wrote me.  I read it over and over....and for the first time in a long long time, I knew what I needed to do. And...I felt there was a chance for me...."  I sat in silence, Corey began reading the passage.

Corey, as you leave middle school and enter high school, you will have many choices and challenges ahead of you. I am confident that you can accomplish anything you put your mind to - you have all the ability and talent right within you. However, as long as hold onto your anger - it will hold you back. It's like a swimming in a pool of rage and resentment - and until you choose to get out of it, you will continue to drown in it. Let it go, Corey.  Forgive your dad, step - dad and whoever else  or whatever has hurt you. Do it now....forgive the past and let go of the pain... And when you do, get ready...because then you will be able to find and fulfill your potential.
~ Mrs. Kenley 

Corey looked up at me. My eyes stung with hot tears. "Mrs. Kenley, I did what you said.  I let it go - all that anger - I let it go.  It took some time....I mean...I had to forgive some people over and over again, but over time, I started feeling better." I nodded with understanding.  "And...I had to forgive myself too....for all the stuff I did...that was really hard.  But, I did it...."  And then Corey's eyes lit up, "And as I let go of my anger, just like you said.....I started to see things differently....I started to see myself differently...and I began to feel like a different person." In awe and amazement, I waited for his final words,"Once I emptied out all that anger, I felt free....It's hard to explain but now things matter to me again.... I matter... And, I'm excited about working hard and accomplishing my goals...I want to make something of myself...and my life." Placing the yearbook in his backpack, Corey looked up and smiled, "I am on my way, Mrs. Kenley."

Standing to say our goodbyes, I added, "Yes, Corey, indeed you are."

~ Corey finds his potential ~

Over the years, both as a teacher and as a therapist, I worked with so many young people who were bitter, angry, and resentful over the injuries and injustices of their pasts. If they needed guidance or help, I recommended safe resources when possible or appropriate. And without  minimizing their pain, I encouraged them time and time again to let go of it- to release it - to forgive it.

Remember this - as long as we hold on to our betrayals (with their accompanying emotional burdens and behavioral consequences), we remain hostage to our betrayers. We are not free - we give our power over to them. However, when we forgive our pasts - when we let the pain go - we release ourselves from its bondage, and we begin the process of righting and reclaiming ourselves. Most importantly, we discover who and what we are capable of being and becoming.

It is a choice.  And it is yours for the making. 

 Forgive your past and fulfill your potential.

You matter...and You are worth it!

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Violet Fights For Her Worth and Finds Her Voice

On a scorching hot September morning in a worn-out desert town of Southern California, I stepped out of my air conditioned car and hurried down the long dusty hallway to my classroom. For over a week, I - along with dozens of other frenzied middle school teachers - were preparing our classrooms and curriculum for another group of high energy, extremely awkward, and lovingly complicated adolescents. Reaching my classroom, I quickly unlocked the door, feeling refreshed by the cool air.

Within a few moments, I put the finishing touches on the first day's lesson plan and scanned the room for any final preparations. Before long, students began filing into the classroom, nervously searching for the right desk and seeking reprieve from the oppressive heat. As I warmly greeted the early-birds and welcomed them to eighth-grade English, my eyes caught sight of a mature rough-looking girl standing in the doorway, not wanting to enter but not allowing others in. With the sound of the bell signaling the start of class, I walked over to her and smiled. "Hi, my  name is Mrs. Kenley." She paused, looking down at her class schedule. I continued,"May I see your schedule?"

Without a word...

Without a word but studying me behind her thick black make-up and through the long unruly bangs which hid part of her face, she handed the crumpled paper over to me. I looked up. "Welcome, Violet. What a pretty name.  Please take a desk anywhere for now." Making her way to the back of the room, Violet took her seat, adjusted her black tank top so her VV tattoo was completely visible on her upper right arm, and stared out the window.

Violet chose never to read...

Over the next several weeks, my first period English students settled into their routine as did my other classes. Loving teaching as I did, it was always my goal to make sure my classroom was a safe place for kids - to be themselves and also to learn. Early on in the year, many students were excited about reading new novels, engaging in our discussions, and most were exhibiting enthusiasm in our assignments, except for Violet.  She remained in the back of the room, as quiet as a mouse. And although Violet chose never to read in class or volunteer an answer to a question, I knew from her written work that she was incredibly bright and talented.  Her poetry was unusually poignant and personal. I wanted to help her with it - take it to a new level - but I didn't want to intrude upon her self-imposed isolation from our class. Noticing that Violet usually hung out with her friends near our classroom before school started, I decided I would try to talk to her before first period started.

One cool Fall  morning before school, I stepped outside our classroom and peered down the long hallway. I saw Violet leave a group of girls, all dressed very much like her. As she walked toward our room, I approached her.

"Good morning, Violet. May I speak with you for a minute?" She glanced at me nervously, as if she were in trouble. I stepped closer.

"Violet, I just wanted to tell you how amazed I am with your writing, especially your poetry! You have such a gift!"  Violet looked confused, unsure as to what I meant. She said nothing. I continued.

"Violet, if you would like, I would love to work with you on it.  With a little help, I think your writing has so much promise." She stood there, numb.  "I often work with students after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Do you think you could stay after on those days?" Feeling as though I overstepped my bounds, I waited for Violet to speak. Finally, her mouth moved.

"I....uhhhh....I can't stay after school.  I have to go home right after school is out. I....I  take care of

Her dark brown eyes spoke...

my brothers and sisters."

I jumped at the opening. "Violet, what about before school?  I see you are always here early? Would that work?"

For the first time since school started, Violet looked up at me. Her beautiful dark brown eyes spoke volumes of emotion, but she spoke six words.  "Yea....I can probably come then."



The months flew by, as they always do, especially when students are growing, changing, and blossoming. Violet was transforming too. We worked together every Tuesday and Thursday morning, almost every week. She became very focused on her writing, excelling in every form of it. We entered several poems into the school newspaper and submitted two of her essays to local competitions. Violet started trusting in our class, reading aloud, and participating in the interactive simulations.  As more time passed, I saw how Violet began to believe in herself. I witnessed firsthand how her worth started to form and take hold.

Then to my surprise, one Spring day after class, Violet asked to speak to me, privately. We set a time to meet before school the following week. Violet came to our classroom extra early.  We sat down in the student desks, facing one another. I waited for her.

"Mrs. Kenley, uhhh... I don't know if you know but I am in a girls' gang."  She pulled her sleeve away, revealing the VV tattoo, and covering it again.  "That's me - Violet Vasquez...." She lowered her head.

"Yes, I know, Violet. Are you ok? Is everything alright."  Stumbling over my words, I added, "Is there something I can do to help?"

Lifting her head, she spoke firmly. "No, Mrs. Kenley.  I have to do this myself. I....uhhh...am going to get jumped-out of my gang. I don't want to be in it anymore....and I just wanted you to know cause I may not be in school for a few days afterwards...it's gonna be hard. But, I gotta do it." Violet got up to leave.

I stood up quickly. "Violet, are you sure there isn't something I can do or get you some help?"

Violet paused at the door and smiled. "Mrs. Kenley, you've helped me so much already. Now, I need to do this for me."

Worried sick for several days, I waited for any news. Rumors spread throughout the school of Violet's departure from the gang, and I knew she was home recuperating. When she returned, her clothing had softened and her make-up and hair took on a lighter flaie as well. We resumed our tutoring sessions and Violet's writing flourished. She assimilated even more closely into our network of discussions and activities. And them, to my astonishment, Violet pushed herself even further.

Discovering Myself

At the end of every school year - with all the testing done and finals completed - I offer students the opportunity to "teach for a day".  I require they submit a full lesson plan,with goals, objectives, and a material list. With many applications submitted, I always try very hard to accept every student's application, even if it needs a little adjusting. However, without question, Violet's lesson plan on poetry - Discovering Myself  - exceeded any of my expectations.

On her "Teacher Day", as Ms. Vasquez neatly wrote her name on the board, I made myself comfortable in her desk, now in the center of the room. My heart beat with admiration as I watched her and listened to her. You see, Violet took a risk. She chose to walk away from self-defeating behaviors and move toward self-valuing behaviors. Violet decided to detach herself from damaging influences, and she made the choice to begin investing in herself. She did the hard work. Even with so many forces working against her, Violet fought for her worth and she found her voice.

Violet fought for her worth...

Knowing the struggles that so many young people face today, it sometimes feels impossible to change your circumstances or to alter your path in life. And yet, just like Violet, each of you has a well of worth waiting to serve you in whatever ways you choose.

You must brave enough to fight for it.

Another Way is here to show you the way.

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You Matter!

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Alejandra's Gift of Self-Respect

Last blog  Do You Allow Others To Determine Your Worth or Do You Determine Your Own Worth? , we learned...if you want to change how you feel about yourself, if you want to take charge of your value, you have two important decisions to make.  First, are you willing to define your worth? Secondly, are you willing to be selective about how and in whom or what you invest yourself?

If you are reading this, it means you are ready to get started! Here we go. Ask yourself and answer the following questions... 

Do you respect yourself?

  If so, how do you know that you do? 

And most importantly, why should you?

Treat Yourself With Respect!

As you are thinking about those questions, read how one amazing 15 year old answered them.

A few weeks ago, I had the extraordinary pleasure of attending an annual luncheon sponsored by a large women’s organization in our community. What makes this gathering so special is the opportunity to meet and connect with high school girls who are working towards attending college after graduation.  This diverse gathering of young females has been identified by their respective high school counselors as  the first in their families to pursue an education beyond high school. For  most of them, the odds of setting such a goal are very much against them as the challenges in their home environments and communities are very real. As I anxiously awaited the arrival of the young girl who was to be partnered with me, I thought about how much I wanted to encourage her, support her, and inspire her to work towards her dreams. Little did I know that she was already giving herself a gift that would carry her further than any words of mine.

Alejandra's Story

As the high school girls entered the large community college auditorium and made their way over to the tables, I could feel the excitement in the room grow. Each young woman found her assigned seat which had been previously labeled for her.  A tall slender girl, with shiny dark-hair, striking green eyes, and a smooth olive complexion, quietly approached my table while double-checking her place-card.  While sensing her shyness, I spoke softly as I welcomed her.

“Hi, are you Alejandra?”  As she nodded, I smiled and replied, “Welcome.  My name is Holli.”

Alejandra gracefully slid into her chair, removed her scarf and coat, and sat silently keeping her gaze slightly downward.  Wanting to remain sensitive to Alejandra’s apparent shyness, I moved cautiously into my questioning while reassuring her that she was free to refrain from answering any questions.  Looking at me for the first time eye to eye, Alejandra smiled and softly exhaled a sigh of relief.

I began our exchange with safe conversation starters about Alejandra’s experiences in high school.  I learned that as a sophomore, Alejandra remained extremely focused in her studies. She struggled with math and science, but she excelled in art and English.  When I asked her if she had any photos of her art work, she quickly retrieved her phone from her coat. It was while sharing her work with me that I witnessed a transformation in Alejandra. Her green eyes sparkled and her voice gained in strength and intensity.  As she swiped her phone, sliding through the extraordinarily crafted black and white abstract animal sketches, I was stunned by her level of ability and talent.  I learned how Alejandra’s art teacher entered many of her pieces into competitions and how she was already receiving awards and recognition for her work.  As we continued to explore Alejandra’s successes in both art as well as in English, I could sense a level of comfort developing between us.  As she replaced her phone into her coat pocket, I asked her permission to inquire about her family.

Alejandra respects herself by respecting what is important to her.

With much more confidence in her voice, Alejandra shared how she lived with her grandmother.  She did not know anything about her father.  Although raised on the East Coast, she and her mom moved to Arizona when she was much younger.  Without divulging the details, Alejandra briefly explained that she had been living with her grandmother for several years and it was best this way.  Her face lit up as she talked about her grandmother, her two best friends – a girl and a guy – and the love of her life – her horse.  As we continued to talk, I was moved by an incredible sense of grounding in this young lady.  Given the obstacles in her life, somehow she had developed an inner strength that far surpassed most young people her age. With caution, I asked Alejandra’s permission again, to ask a more personal question. She agreed.

“Alejandra, who or what motivates you to remain as focused and driven as you are?”

Without pausing, she responded. “My grandmother and my horse.”  And then she continued. “My grandmother works so hard to take care of me.  I don’t want to let her down.  I want to do everything I can to make her proud of me… I love her so much.” Her eyes lowered as she composed herself. “And my horse.  Taking care of him and working at the stables is a lot of work and responsibility, but I love him too. And aside from my art work, when I am out riding… I feel  free…”

Wanting to probe a little deeper, I asked Alejandra a question that always interests me about young people.  “Alejandra, if I've heard you correctly, you don’t seem to participate in some of typical teenage at-risk behaviors that other high school kids engage in….is that right? And if so, may I ask, why is that?”

Alejandra turned and looked at me.  Her voice was steady and strong. “Holli, most of the kids at school drink, do drugs, and are in relationships. I know so many girls who are in abusive relationships, getting beat up by their boyfriends and who are afraid to break up with them….  I know lots of kids – girls and guys – who cut themselves.  It is out of control. They start out doing it for fun or cause everyone else is doing it…and it gets worse and worse.  And…there are so many girls who are bulimic or anorexic…it is crazy. They are starving themselves … they think they are fat when they don’t look like the girls on TV or the movies.” Alejandra took in a deep breath. “It’s all messed up….”

I waited and asked. “What keeps you from doing those things?”

Without hesitation, Alejandra responded, “I respect myself too much.”  I waited for more. She

If I don't respect myself - who will?

continued. “Holli, I am not judging my friends or the other kids, but I don’t want to be like them. When they do all that stuff that hurts them, they don’t respect their bodies or their minds. They are deliberately hurting themselves…they are disrespecting themselves…and so other people don’t respect them either.  I learned a long time ago that if I don’t’ respect myself, then who will?”

Astounded by Alejandra’s depth of insight and level of self-awareness and given the personal challenges she endured, I needed to probe one more time. “Alejandra, how did you begin to respect yourself when there were so many things in your young life that hurt you?”

Alejandra’s green eyes softened and watered. “When my grandma took me in four years ago, she was the first person who said she believed in me…. She told me that over and over again. After a while, I started believing in myself…and over the past few years as that belief grew, I felt my self-respect start to take hold.” She smiled and added, “And now, I won’t allow anyone or anything to mess that up. I’ve learned the more I respect myself, the more it gives back to me! Every day, I get stronger and stronger. And every day, I become more determined to achieve my goals and live out my dreams.”

Dislodging the lump in my throat, I spoke. “I have absolutely no doubt, Alejandra, you will do just that.”

What are you doing to respect yourself?

In closing, as Alejandra taught us, respect must start within each one of us. No matter what our challenges are or what difficulties we face, we can choose the gift of self-respect.  It is a gift that we can begin giving to ourselves, a little at a time, each and every day. It is a gift that as we give it to ourselves, it will give back to us, again and again. We must be brave enough to believe we are worth it.   

 Until next time ~ Answer these three questions:

• What are you doing to respect yourself?
• Why is it important to respect yourself?
• If you haven't been treating yourself with respect, what can you start doing today? 

                                      Remember, you have to power to determine your worth!

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Do You Allow Others To Determine Your Worth or Are You Ready To Determine Your Worth? Let's Get Started!

Do you think about your worth?

 Do you think about how important or valuable you feel? 

Are they days when like yourself – the way you look, the good grade you got on a test, or the cool text someone sent you?  Are there days when you struggle with low self-worth – you’re  not satisfied with your appearance, you wish you had better friends, or you just don’t feel like anyone really cares about you?

If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, you are not alone! From the moment we get up in the morning until we go to sleep, most of us are constantly taking in messages from all around us which contribute to our worth.

Messages about our worth come from everywhere!

Some of the messages come to us directly from our friends, parents/guardians, teachers, coaches, and individuals in our social networking worlds.  Either face to face or through electronic communications, we integrate others’ thoughts about us into our beings.  Those opinions might be positive causing us to feel really good about ourselves.  Hey, great job on your report card!  - I love your outfit! – You’re the best friend anyone could ever have!  Or, some messages can be really negative which will lower our esteem and worth. You failed another test; what’s wrong with you?  - You’re such a looser; you don’t have any friends.  - That jacket you’re wearing looks so stupid!  

Other messages that strongly influence our worth come to us indirectly. What do I mean by that? All you have to do is look around. What kinds of images do you see on the pages of magazines, in movies or TV, on videos, or in most advertisements?  We see perfect people striving to have perfect lives! As we look at and take in the messages of what is popular, attractive, and desirable, each of us subconsciously begins to compare and evaluate our worth to the standard that is being set for us.  If we feel we measure up, even just a little, we feel pretty good. However, if we don’t quite look a certain way or if we feel that we can’t achieve what someone else has, we feel “less than”. 

You can take charge of your worth!

If you want to change how you feel about yourself, if you want to take charge of your value, you have two important decisions to make.

First, are you willing to define your own worth?

Secondly, are you willing to be selective about how and in whom or what you invest yourself?   

Think about these two questions!  Think hard! And then, get ready.

  Next time,  you'll learn how to start defining your own worth! 

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