Broken Reflections

photo credit: https://campus.digication.com/jdahmer/Reflections.

"This isn't it. This isn't how it's supposed to be. This isn't right." These are the words that ran through my head as I stood before my reflection and my world came crashing in around me. The thoughts that had been in the back of head for months but didn't dare acknowledge for fear of what it would mean, were hitting me like bullets as the realization was sinking in. "It didn't work." 

There are few moments that are burned into my memory quite like this. I remember this moment in all it's detail. I was in my parent's bedroom, in front of the mirror that hung above the heavy oak dresser that they've had all my life. It was around 4:00 in the afternoon on a fall day. I was barely 15. My clothes hung loosely on my 90 pound frame, the results of a very effective liquid diet. I had come in for something and caught sight of myself in the reflection. I leaned in closer to the mirror and inspected the aftermath of my surgery. The surgery that was going to make me beautiful. The surgery that would make all those insecurities disappear. The surgery that would stop all the teasing. The surgery that would help me function normally. The surgery that was supposed to fix my face....

I didn't dare acknowledge what was in the back of my mind because I thought it would have meant two things. 1. I was being ungrateful. 2. God doesn't love me or keep his promises to me. Here I was facing down what I feared the most...

I remember going to my mom and sobbing to her of the realization that I had, something I think she already knew but didn't want to acknowledge herself or bring up to me after watching me go through an excruciating recovery. She made an appointment to go back into the oral surgeon's office.

We walked in and were greeted by the same number 2 platinum blond Barbie dolls, the doctor had working for him. They proceeded to tell me how great I looked. That always made me feel so good before, because I wanted to believe these beautiful women. They must be telling the truth, But then it was always confusing because they seemed to be the only ones who noticed... I realized then they were paid to say this...

They were lying to me... And I hated them...

I diligently watched Extreme Make over, I knew how this was supposed to work. It was supposed to be this dramatic difference, my Cinderella moment! People were supposed to fawn over how amazing I looked. I went back to school, nothing.... I went back to church... nothing...No one noticed a single difference in me. The people who knew I had the surgery didn't make a big deal. Maybe, they did note some difference but I don't remember ever getting a huge reaction like I wanted. I think the only one who said anything was one of my beautiful cousins at a family party at my aunt and uncle's house. Yeah, I followed her around like a puppy. As if to say, "Please think I'm beautiful. Please tell me I'm beautiful!"

I liked this doctor. I trusted this doctor. He was very kind. And the fact that he was willing to do trade work with my parents so we could afford the surgery, we thought was really gracious. And the miracle that we needed because my parents couldn't afford it. But the painful truth is being kind doesn't mean you are qualified...

The doctor knew. The doctor knew he didn't do a good job. The doctor knew the surgery didn't work.  The doctor knew we weren't happy. The doctor knew I was not happy... But what I have painfully come to realize about some professionals is that they will never take full responsibility for something they did wrong, they will never admit it. So he talked around it. As if this sometimes happens. And gave us a simple solution to fix it... I was hopeful but deep down I knew it wasn't going to work. We left his office and that was the last time I ever saw him.

We went over to the Orthodontist's office who inspected my face, and confirmed what we already knew. The surgery didn't work. And the oral surgeon's solution of moving the rubber bands on my braces, to bring my receding jaw forward would only move my teeth. I felt like every confirming news was another bullet in my heart. I fought back the tears and put on a brave face. Not only that the did surgery not work but we were told it was the wrong surgery! I needed an upper and lower jaw surgery. And over the years, the surgery he did do to bring my receding jaw forward didn't hold and slid back....

Then the orthodontist dropped the real bomb...

He told us he knew when we first  told him who our surgeon was that he wasn't qualified to do this surgery.

I remember thinking, "If you knew why in the world didn't you say anything??!!!"

Our orthodontist was the one who told us I needed this surgery! Was the one who pressured us into getting it! Said if I didn't get it the braces needed to come off until I could get the surgery! Why in the world would he not say anything to us about this!? That the oral surgeon wasn't capable of doing this kind of surgery?!
 Now at 28, I can see maybe he was hoping he was wrong and was hoping for the best for me, just like the rest of us. Because he knew my parents were doing photography trade with him to pay for my surgery because that's how I was getting my braces. But at 15, I couldn't see that.  All I could see was that I was let down by two adults who I thought were supposed to know better. These men were  professionals  they were supposed to know how to do their jobs. They were supposed to help me. And they didn't....

The braces came off in what felt like utter defeat, And I was just supposed to move on from all this. Wondering what steps we needed to take next....

*************************************************************

I remember vividly my parents sitting me down and telling me they didn't have the money for the surgery. My heart was breaking, from all the times I came home crying from the junior high because I was being teased and told I was ugly... The panic attacks I had every time we neared the school, the times I faked being sick so I didn't have to go. Which caused such a vicious cycle of getting behind.. I felt so bad about myself I had times when I didn't want to live anymore...

I went to my room and laid on my bed and stared facing the wall with tears streaming down my face. And I poured out my heart in prayer saying, "Please...Please....Please....Please let me get this surgery! Please let me be beautiful... Please, please, please."
The most overwhelming feeling of comfort came over me, as if someone was holding me in their arms and I felt in my mind and my heart, "Everything will be ok, everything will work out. You will get this surgery." I had never felt such love and such comfort from the Spirit before, and I knew everything was going to work out.  Every night that week I went to bed feeling like someone was holding me. Everything was going to be alright. This was going to happen for me.

Now I felt confused... and even lied to. And I prayed and asked God probably the most sincerely I ever had in my life up to that point, "Why? Why did this happen? Why do I have to go through this? No one else I know has to go through this! Why me? Why didn't the surgery work?"

The answer I felt in my heart was that before I was born I had, "Specifically chosen this trial." 

I was very surprised by this answer and even humbled. Until, the next big emotional upset. And the years of seeing professionals who picked my face a part I would cry out, "Well I don't want this trial anymore!  Give me something else! "

Luckily, Heavenly Father is very patient with teenagers. (He's also very patient with 28 year olds! :) I didn't understand  and I really couldn't understand then at 15 just what that meant. Just what the Lord had in store for me and my life. I have been told repeatedly by the Spirit over the years that my, "Life is one of design and not of chance." And I believe with my whole heart that many of our trials and our refiners fire is so that, "the works of God should be made manifest" in us. (John 9:1-3)

This has been my journey. It has taken me years to come to love myself and accept myself despite what I thought was this "defect" with my face. And holding on to hope that this surgery was going to "fix" everything for me. That once I had it, then I would be free. But as I came closer to Heavenly Father and could just get a glimpse of how He saw me and that I was His daughter that's what changed things. More so then any surgery could.

I have been waiting for over 15 years for this oral reconstructive jaw surgery. And now as of tomorrow (March 16th), it's finally happening. It was brought about through a string of miracles, after years of hardship trying to make it happen. But the real miracle is that if it had never happened I would be okay. I know I would be. And some may ask then why have the surgery? Well, if it was completely for aesthetics I wouldn't do it. But there is actual medical reasons for having it. And really this is something that is important to me. It doesn't have the same come from as it used to. Especially after being married and even especially after having my baby. But really, it's been a gift from a most gracious loving Father and I know what's important to me is important to Him. Or else all these things wouldn't have fallen into place.

I am so extremely grateful for the hard roads that lead me here. Through it all I have been able to see God's hand in my life and know that He is and that He loves me and all His children. I am grateful for the love and support of so many who sacrificed for me to help my dreams come true.

And thank you for all those who want to take this journey with me! Who take the time to read this! I will be blogging my experiences of recovery and my experiences of being a new mommy and the things over these years to help me come to love myself, My hopes is that maybe something I have to say might help even one person know that they are loved and not forgotten! I have said this before but everything I went through would be worth if just to understand and help one person. I know that God not only has a plan for my life but everyone. None of these experiences will ever be wasted.

"Before we were born God gently told us the Truth 

but Understanding is something that stops

as our bodies bruise."

"Am I gonna believe all them bad things them fools say about me today?"

In light of recent event that happened Monday, I have decided to take another detour in my blog. I promise some day the one entry I've been trying to write for months will actually get done. (Saying that more as a promise to myself)

Earlier this year me and my husband have joined the world of Cosplay! We attended two conventions where we dressed up as a Steam Punk Ariel and Eric from Little Mermaid. We even did a Disneybound when we went to Disneyland. And dressed up for our Primary Party. (My husband is a good sport of being the accessory to my Ariel:) 

 

Last week we attended Masquerade Ball that we waited all year for. We went as fancier versions of them. I found a fancier version of Ariel's "Kiss The Girl" dress that Disney did for one of their doll collections and with the help of my wonderful seamstress friend she helped my vision become a reality! Making it my own, but still very Ariel and nautical.

 

Our costumes were fantastic! I really felt like Princess Ariel! We had a mini photo shoot before the ball with our awesome photographer, Laura Bellamy. That turned out amazing! We had a wonderful time at the ball.

On Monday I decided to post the pictures that Laura took on the Disney Cosplay Group on Facebook. 

http://lauraslifebehindthelens.blogspot.com/2014/10/disney-themed-little-mermaid-session.html

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.747562531958702.1073741861.132391823475779&type=1

I got a marvelous response from people and great compliments on my costume. Everything was very positive, until, I got one post...

One guy from the group decided that he did not like my pictures and decided to tell me so. 

I must say it's been a long time since I've been picked on for my looks. And at age 27 I really wasn't expecting it to happen again. I'm not in Jr. High anymore! I opened my notifications to find this response:

"I'm sorry but a horse-face does NOT make a good cosplay!"  He then later edited his comment to make some sort of mention that I had "horse teeth" and some other derogatory comments about my face and essentially how I shouldn't cosplay because according to him I didn't look right doing it.

I was completely shocked. I really did not know what to think. Or really what to do. 

One thing I don't comprehend is rudeness. I really just can't get my head around it. Not saying I'm perfect or that I've never been rude in my life. But the fact that someone could think something like that, let alone feel it is okay to say something like that to another person, that they don't even know is completely beyond me.

I in fact, do have many oral problems with my face that I am in the process of fixing. Which is what this blog is going to be about. (Spoiler alert) And I have to be very aware, especially in pictures to bring my jaw and my chin forward to look presentable. Some of the first shots, which I'm sure are the ones he was referring to, I wasn't quite comfortable in front of the camera yet, so I hadn't brought them forward enough. My jaw was more receded and exposed more of the gums in my smile. So those pictures are really not the best of me. But I liked them anyway, and I am comfortable enough with myself and my face that I could post maybe what the world would consider not the most "ascetically pleasing" pictures of me.

I told my husband Aaron about it, and my Mom and even Laura my photographer who were completely livid with this guy, and I'm sure would have loved to punch him in the face. But I need to tell you something, 

I was not upset. 

I wasn't hurt by this man's inconsideration. 

A few years ago, something like this would have completely destroyed me. It would have sent me into a deep depression, and into hiding my "shameful face" But this time it didn't. And it doesn't. There were many things I was feeling on the surface. But it almost felt like all the emotions were laid out on a table and I was walking up and down the length of it, looking at what was before me and I got to CHOSE how I was going to feel. And this time probably the first time in my life I chose differently then any other time before.

I wasn't going to allow this guy to take my Peace. I wasn't going to let him destroy, by one thoughtless comment what took me years to build up. That was mine! And I wasn't going to let him touch it.

Who was this man anyway? This complete stranger? This BULLY to tell me that I shouldn't cosplay because of the way I looked?? That in his eyes I was somehow unacceptable. That he had some right to judge that? That I couldn't be a Princess in my own right? That I can't be Princess Ariel? This guy gets to tell me that? 

NOT. A. CHANCE. 

I started to draft a response to him and then I stopped. Because I realized there was nothing I could say to him that that would get him to feel any sort of remorse for what he said to me. Because he was a bully. And he was going to see things the way he wanted to see them whether they were correct or not. He was going to say things the way he wanted to say them whether they had any sort of truth. And I didn't owe him any sort of explanation. I didn't need to tell him my story. Because he doesn't deserve to hear it. And I make no apologies for who I am and what I look like.

As I was realizing and feeling all this and trying to figure out what to do, the comment was removed from the post. I thought maybe someone else who saw it reported him and had it removed. It turns out one of the admins saw it, removed his comment and removed him permanently from the group. She apologized in an email and again on the post that they didn't catch it when it was first posted. 

"This group is a safe place to post, we do not allow anyone to break anyone else down or even try. I love your cosplay I think you look lovely. Stay strong and beautiful!"

That was victory enough for me. One of the Group rules is: "If you can't say something nice don't say anything at all" which I think more and more of our society could use. I received an outpouring of love from people. Currently there is 100 "Likes" and 41 comments on my pictures and that's what I chose to focus on. The good totally outweighed the bad. 

There was a small part of me, for the briefest moment,  maybe a fraction of a second was tempted to take that post down, but I decided against it. Because if I took that down, if I decided to cower in shame, that guy wins. And I won't let anyone have that kind of victory over me anymore.

"Everyday...everyday you're not dead in the ground and you wake up in the mornin', you gonna have to make some decisions. Gotta ask yourself this question; am I gonna believe all them bad things them fools said about me today? You hear me? Am I gonna believe all them bad things them fools say about me today? Alright?"

More Pictures From The Masquerade Ball https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.748711815164003.1073741838.570735572961629&type=1

Set Backs and Perfection

image taken from: http://awakenedvibrations.tumblr.com/post/74010991698/the-fifteen-major-tests-of-the-spiritual-path

So, if you look at when my last entry was it has been quite sometime since I have last written. And like the beginning of most of my journal entries I feel the need to apologize for my lack of consistency and mention how much has happened and how much time has passed and state a resolve to do better to document my life. But I am not sure if I can make such promises here. If you could see all the drafts I have composed and the ideas and direction I have already started you could see I was on the right track. I wasn't always being lazy.

I began this blog ready and willing to go! And then an interesting thing happened. The months of retrospection before starting this blog and the reflection that happened while writing took an interesting turn. As I was beginning my second entry and writing a few entries that would be later on I hit my emotional wall. As I was making connections of events in my life I had some repressed memories come up which brought up many strong emotions which were for lack of a better word paralyzing. I could not sit down and write without having an emotional breakdown. I could not revisit my past without wanting to turn tale and run. With all my work in the emotional release therapies I had done over the past several years I obviously still had some things to work on. And I reached a point where I couldn't. 

So we put it on hold. And then of course life happens. And we get busy and this blog got pushed aside and every time it was thought of was with feelings of guilt, and anxiety. And the thing that I really wanted to do became the thing that I "have to do." The internal pressure I put on myself overwhelmed me and I didn't fell like I could do it. I was not meeting my "deadline" I felt like I was disrupting some cosmic plan. That I lacked the faith to write this, that by not following through on the impressions I received  I was letting down God. I wasn't doing what He needed me to do or helping whomever He needed me to reach.  And I felt I was letting myself down.  Reading other people's work and seeing their talent in writing and being able to put ideas and words in such brilliant ways made me feel extremely inadequate. I felt like I was not strong enough, or smart enough or talented enough or motivated enough to work on something like this.  

I want my blog and my story to be something worth reading. I've had this idea in my head that I need to make everything "perfect" before sending it out into the world. Nicely packaging up all my vulnerability into a nice little bow, laying it out just so before showing it to anyone. But I have come to realize that that is not what this blog is for. That is not what my story is about. For years I have tried to overcome these ideas of "perfection" these black and white, all or nothing attitudes of how my life needs to be. How I need to be. How I need to look. Hiding behind these masks of pretension. I have more often then not, gotten stuck in these narrow views. And many times I have had to learn things the hard way in order to get out of my own way. 

So yes this blog is not always going to be coherent or grammatically correct. I may be redundant and I might repeat myself (catch that? That was a joke.) My story might not always be concise or pretty or dare I say it, "Perfect." But I am embracing the fact that, neither am I. I remember being taught something from one of my Temple Workers in the Baptistry at the Timpanogos Temple when I was in high school, Sister Walker. She told me something her Stake President said during Stake Conference, "The only perfect being who ever lived was not a perfectionist." Well that's good enough for me. This blog is supposed to be about me and my story, and sometimes to get to know someone you need to see all the flaws and the raw edges. And I can promise you plenty!

I am now months behind in my perceived "deadline" but maybe there is a reason for that. One thing I know is that God works with our weaknesses and short comings. And He has plenty of Plan Bs when we fail to do what He asked to do in the first place. That is one of the many very nice things of having someone in your corner who knows the "End from the Beginning" So I'm starting again. To tell you the truth I'm not entirely sure where... I have plenty of drafts and notes and ideas and wonderful edits done by my friend Amber. Now I am just figuring out if that is the direction I need to go. But I'm jumping in with both feet. "Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it." For those of your who have taken and will take the time in the future to read these, thank you for taking this journey with me.

Charity Never Faileth

image taken from: http://thefieldofflowers.wordpress.com/2013/11/20/chrysanthemum-symbolism/

Today in the car  I was listening to a talk by one of my favorite story tellers, and favorite people, President Thomas S. Monson. It was from an address he gave at the General Relief Society Conference in 2010, called "Charity Never Faileth." The story he tells is so moving, and something I feel is important for all of us to remember that I decided to go off course a little bit in what I thought would be my second entry and share this story. 

A classic account of judging by appearance was printed in a national magazine many years ago. It is a true account—one which you may have heard but which bears repeating.

A woman by the name of Mary Bartels had a home directly across the street from the entrance to a hospital clinic. Her family lived on the main floor and rented the upstairs rooms to outpatients at the clinic.

One evening a truly awful-looking old man came to the door asking if there was room for him to stay the night. He was stooped and shriveled, and his face was lopsided from swelling—red and raw. He said he’d been hunting for a room since noon but with no success. “I guess it’s my face,” he said. “I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says it could possibly improve after more treatments.” He indicated he’d be happy to sleep in the rocking chair on the porch. As she talked with him, Mary realized this little old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. Although her rooms were filled, she told him to wait in the chair and she’d find him a place to sleep.

At bedtime Mary’s husband set up a camp cot for the man. When she checked in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and he was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, he asked if he could return the next time he had a treatment. “I won’t put you out a bit,” he promised. “I can sleep fine in a chair.” Mary assured him he was welcome to come again.

In the several years he went for treatments and stayed in Mary’s home, the old man, who was a fisherman by trade, always had gifts of seafood or vegetables from his garden. Other times he sent packages in the mail.

When Mary received these thoughtful gifts, she often thought of a comment her next-door neighbor made after the disfigured, stooped old man had left Mary’s home that first morning. “Did you keep that awful-looking man last night? I turned him away. You can lose customers by putting up such people.”

Mary knew that maybe they had lost customers once or twice, but she thought, “Oh, if only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear.”

After the man passed away, Mary was visiting with a friend who had a greenhouse. As she looked at her friend’s flowers, she noticed a beautiful golden chrysanthemum but was puzzled that it was growing in a dented, old, rusty bucket. Her friend explained, “I ran short of pots, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn’t mind starting in this old pail. It’s just for a little while, until I can put it out in the garden.”

Mary smiled as she imagined just such a scene in heaven. “Here’s an especially beautiful one,” God might have said when He came to the soul of the little old man. “He won’t mind starting in this small, misshapen body.” But that was long ago, and in God’s garden how tall this lovely soul must stand! 

Appearances can be so deceiving, such a poor measure of a person. Admonished the Savior, “Judge not according to the appearance.” 

~Fairy Tales & Once Upon A Times~

                                   Photo by: Katy Ives

Almost every little girl grows up hearing Fairy Tales and things that happened “Once Upon a Time.” We watch Disney films and dress up in princess dresses and play with our dolls, sometimes pretending to be them, and other times playing the heroine in our own stories. We all have our favorites. Mine was Ariel from the Little Mermaid and, for years, my favorite fairy tale was 12 Dancing Princesses. 

Just after I graduated from high school, I saw a film that gave me a new favorite heroine and fairy tale. The movie was Penelope.  While she is technically not a princess, anyone who has read or watched A Little Princess knows that ALL girls are princesses. So, for me, Penelope is a Princess.

For those of you who have not seen this movie, I would recommend that you drop everything and watch it. Until then, I will give a brief synopsis, which may or may not contain spoilers.

Penelope was born into a wealthy, blue blood family that appears to have no problems, except for the family curse. A great-great-great-grandfather decided to have a fling with a servant girl and, of course, she got pregnant. He, at first, wanted to marry her, but his family thought it was laughable since she was “just a servant girl.” Ultimately, he married someone more “suitable,” and the servant girl threw herself off a cliff. Nice beginning to the story right?

The servant girl’s mother was also the town witch, and she wanted the blue bloods to feel the pain of rejection that her daughter experienced. So she cursed them that the next daughter born into the family would be born with the face of a pig. "Only until one of her own kind accepts her as their own, ‘til death do you part, will the spell be broken!"

Naturally, every young bride feared being the first to give birth to a girl. As fate would have it, they all had sons, who had all sons, who had all sons… until Penelope.

Her parents were devastated, but there was nothing that they could do except hide her from the press who were clamoring for a peek at the pig face girl. Ultimately, Penelope’s mother faked her daughter’s death and locked her away for 25 years, which were spent becoming the ideal bride.

When she was 18, her mother hired the matchmaker to the rich and famous, but every young suitor that saw Penelope would freak out and jump out the window. (Wow! That would make you feel pretty good about yourself!) For 6 years, she watched as every guy recoiled in horror.

Finally, Penelope couldn't take it anymore. She realized her mom was never going to give up on the idea of finding her a husband, and she was tired of waiting for the day she could start living her life. So she ran away from home and went on a journey of self-discovery. She met new friends who helped her along the way and showed her the world that she had never been a part of before.

On her journey, Penelope discovered that she was more than her face and that she was someone worth noticing. In the moment that she accepted herself just the way she was, she broke her own curse.  She didn't need some prince to change her. She had the power all along. Love and acceptance of herself was what made all the difference and were the only powers she needed.

I love this story because I finally have a princess whose story is like mine.  No, I was not born with the face of a pig, but I can tell you that, for years, I had thought I had been cursed...

I was not locked up for 25 years, but I was trapped by my own insecurities and low self esteem. And like Penelope, I waited for the day that my life would be different, and for somebody to make it happen for me.

So here is my story...

Purpose & Introduction ~

My name is Nikki Robison Nelson. I am almost 26 years old. I reside with my wonderful husband Aaron in Lindon, Utah. We’ll have been married for 2 years in October, and it has been the happiest time of my life!

We both work as managers at a book store while Aaron is finishing school. It may seem crazy that a husband and wife work together, but it is a joy for us. Anyone who has ever been around us knows that we are completely nauseating. And I think we will still act like we are in our honeymoon stage 20 years down the road.

I am a devout member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. An "Orthodox Mormon," if you will. I have a very strong testimony of my Savior, Jesus Christ, and what He has done for me and the active role He continues to play in my life.

I am originally from Heaven, :) but I was born and raised in Utah. I have the most wonderful parents in the entire world!  They have taught and raised me well and continue to be a huge blessing to me. I got my vocal inflections and sense of humor and deep Patriotism from my Mom, and I hope I have inherited some of my Dad's kindness and endless patience.

There are 6 kids in my family, 4 boys and 2 girls and we range from 27-11, which made growing up a lot of fun. :)  We don't always get along, but I still love them all very much. We grew up listening to Earth, Wind and Fire, Billy Joel, and Elton John. We had a good childhood filled with old movies and Star Trek: Next Generation, playing outside, and battling each other on Super Nintendo. We also spent many hours at our parents’ photography studio, which felt like a second home.

I love reading anything by Jane Austen and watching period pieces like Downton Abbey and Anne of Green Gables. I enjoy history and watching documentaries, but also appreciate and have a weird obsession with shows like Hoarders, and Extreme Couponing.  And Aaron and I still watch cartoons and Disney Movies!

I want to learn to play guitar and piano, and take voice lessons. I love to dance and have been taking Belly Dance classes on and off for about 5 years. I also enjoy West Coast Swing. I dance around the house and sing in the car at the top of my lungs. I have an impeccable memory for movie quotes and I can do a pretty spot on impression of Kari from the Incredibles. 

The name for this blog has a lot of personal meaning for me and it took a while to come up with. I wanted something meaningful that would stand out and show a little bit about me. “Padawan Warrior Princess” is a combination of a couple nicknames I've had.

"Padawan Learner" came from one of my best friends, Jon. He was known by some of his friends as "Master Jedi." I guess because I was a younger I, by default, became "Padawan Learner" Truth be told, I am not a Star Wars fan, but this nickname was given affectionately and I love it!

"Warrior Princess" came from one of my high school friends who would spend lunch time spinning fantastic tales about "Nikki, Warrior Princess & Her Army of Red Crickets!" I'm not sure what inspired them, but it was fun to hear stories with me as the heroine. I remember how excited my friend Dan became when he discovered that my name, Nicole, means "Victory of the people."  It just made the stories so much cooler.

I decided to put these two names together because they represent an eternal truth about me: I am Learning.  I am Fighting. And I am a Princess.

I believe everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has experiences that have shaped them into who they are. My story may not be the most dramatic or as remarkable as others’ triumphs over adversity, but the things that I have gone through have been unique, and the things that I have learned from them should not be discredited.

My story is about overcoming years of insecurity, low self esteem, and incorrect beliefs that I had about myself. And, literally, it took years to conquer those demons and come to realize that I am beautiful. My life has meaning and purpose, and I am literally a Daughter of God.

The idea of a blog has existed for a couple of years now, when a family friend who has been made aware and is familiar with my situation suggested that I write it. But it was never something I thought to do or even really could do until a couple months ago when I felt really strongly that I needed to write my story.

The purpose of this is still unclear to me. Whether this is just supposed to be for my own records or for some greater purpose. But I really hope that by me sharing my story it will help someone who has been in a similar situation. Anyone who has ever felt insecure, or was told that they were not beautiful, or has been picked on and disregarded. If there is something that I could say that could help just ONE person know that they are of worth, that they are loved and that everything will be okay then everything I have gone through, all the pain, all the hurt and anguish and the tears and sorrow and years of waiting will be worth it. Just for ONE person.

So whoever that one person is.... this is for you.