http://truecampaign.org/index.php en info@truecampaign.org Copyright 2010 2010-09-02T19:27:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/hungry_for_hope_update_sex_and_skinny_tour/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/hungry_for_hope_update_sex_and_skinny_tour/#When:20:27:00Z Hi friends. It has been a busy summer and I am so excited about some new things that are coming down the pike for True. There is a movement of sorts building, and I can’t wait to tell you more about it as some things click into place. In the meantime, there are two things I wanted to make you aware of. First, we just posted a gorgeous photo album from this year’s Hungry for Hope conference at www.findingbalance.com/hfh. Special thanks to JJ Heller (music) and Elaina Whittenhall (photography) for making this super special. Registration for next year’s conference is now open. It will be June 15-18, 2011 and the theme is A Family Affair. You can read lots more about this at the link above. Second, I am embarking on something called the “Sex and Skinny Tour” in just a couple weeks. I have partnered with Nate Larkin, founder of The Samson Society (a network of community for men) and together we’re going to break stereotypes about the struggles men and women face, and more important, talk about how they intertwine. I first wrote about the correlation between pornography and eating issues in my Life Inside the Thin Cage book 8 years ago, and I can’t wait to get out there and talk more about it. Our first dates are the week of Sept 21 at Anderson and Indiana Wesleyan Universities. I wrote a pretty personal blog about what some of this is stirring up in me which you can find on the Sex and Skinny Tour website (www.sexandskinnytour.com). Just wanted to keep you in the loop. I look forward to talking to you soon in a less newsy, more creative way… Hi friends. It has been a busy summer and I am so excited about some new things that are coming down the pike for True. There is a movement of sorts building, and I can’t wait to tell you more about it as some things click into place. In the meantime, there are two things I wanted to make you aware of. First, we just posted a gorgeous photo album from this year’s Hungry for Hope conference at www.findingbalance.com/hfh. Special thanks to JJ Heller (music) and Elaina Whittenhall (photography) for making this super special. Registration for next year’s conference is now open. It will be June 15-18, 2011 and the theme is A Family Affair. You can read lots more about this at the link above. Second, I am embarking on something called the “Sex and Skinny Tour” in just a couple weeks. I have partnered with Nate Larkin, founder of The Samson Society (a network of community for men) and together we’re going to break stereotypes about the struggles men and women face, and more important, talk about how they intertwine. I first wrote about the correlation between pornography and eating issues in my Life Inside the Thin Cage book 8 years ago, and I can’t wait to get out there and talk more about it. Our first dates are the week of Sept 21 at Anderson and Indiana Wesleyan Universities. I wrote a pretty personal blog about what some of this is stirring up in me which you can find on the Sex and Skinny Tour website (www.sexandskinnytour.com). Just wanted to keep you in the loop. I look forward to talking to you soon in a less newsy, more creative way… 2010-09-02T20:27:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/to_feel_or_not_to_feel_that_is_the_question/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/to_feel_or_not_to_feel_that_is_the_question/#When:21:00:00Z By Valerie Cunningham I’ve been thinking a lot about feelings lately.  Feelings really confuse me.  I guess that’s to be expected.  In my family of origin, feelings weren’t allowed.  That’s where the Eating Disorder came into play.  My Eating Disorder told me that if I restricted my food intake or over-exercised that I could numb the feelings away.  So that’s exactly what I did. It only makes sense then, that after twenty-two years of numbing out, that I would be frozen.  Stiff.  Cold.  Emotionally dead.  So when I entered into treatment and made a commitment to recovery, dealing with the feelings would be the most difficult part.  Not the food, not the necessary weight gain, but the feelings. By Valerie Cunningham I’ve been thinking a lot about feelings lately.  Feelings really confuse me.  I guess that’s to be expected.  In my family of origin, feelings weren’t allowed.  That’s where the Eating Disorder came into play.  My Eating Disorder told me that if I restricted my food intake or over-exercised that I could numb the feelings away.  So that’s exactly what I did. It only makes sense then, that after twenty-two years of numbing out, that I would be frozen.  Stiff.  Cold.  Emotionally dead.  So when I entered into treatment and made a commitment to recovery, dealing with the feelings would be the most difficult part.  Not the food, not the necessary weight gain, but the feelings. Recently, I’ve learned some things about feelings.  First of all, feelings are a natural response --- a God-given gift. Quite often they can be a clue to something bigger, because feelings come out of our needs.  (Arghhh…another one of my struggles --- needs.  We’ll examine that another day.) Next, I must make a conscious decision to be a feeling person, regardless of the non-feeling family I grew up in or any non-feeling situations I may happen to encounter.  Lastly, I need to not be afraid of the feelings.  The more I ignore or try to avoid the feelings, the more intense they become. Very early on in my recovery, I had someone describe feelings to me in this way:  Recovery is a lot like coming out of a snowstorm in which you developed frostbite.  The minute you step foot in the warmth and safety, you begin to thaw, defrost.  Well, that doesn’t feel good.  As a matter of fact, it hurts, it burns, and it stings.  All you want to do is go running back into the storm and become frozen again. For when you are frozen, you don’t feel a thing.  But if you’ll stay in the shelter, experience the feelings, allow the frost to melt away, you will be alive again.  One thing I know is that I don’t want to go back into the storm.  It is a dark and lonely place, full of uncertainty.  I want to live in the light and in the truth.  To feel or not to feel --- I’m going to choose to feel. 2010-08-23T21:00:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/hair/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/hair/#When:03:46:00Z By Oluwatomisin (“Tomi”) Oredein I’ve always hated what God threw on my head.  It was too coarse, not long enough, nappy… which of course implied that I was less than my classmates, whose hair reflected that somewhere inside their history, their moms and daughters had the genes of goddesses.  See, they can control the living beings on their head; and in their control their hair became adornment, not a curse, like the one my head wore. I guess it started when I was six and my older sister was eight.  I have the best older sister in the world by the way.  She is gorgeous inside and out…and didn’t mean to do what happened next, honestly. We had watched so many “Just for Me” kiddy-perm commercials that we decided it was our time to be made beautiful like the little black girl on the box with her pink and green beret and cute outfit.  Perhaps fixing our hair will fix the rest of us, we thought.  So my sister decided to give me a perm.  We had to hurry before our mom got back from the grocery store; perms didn’t take that long right?  My sister and I searched underneath my mom’s counter for a few minutes but could only find a bottle of white strong smelling stuff, not a box like the commercials advertised. By Oluwatomisin (“Tomi”) Oredein I’ve always hated what God threw on my head.  It was too coarse, not long enough, nappy… which of course implied that I was less than my classmates, whose hair reflected that somewhere inside their history, their moms and daughters had the genes of goddesses.  See, they can control the living beings on their head; and in their control their hair became adornment, not a curse, like the one my head wore. I guess it started when I was six and my older sister was eight.  I have the best older sister in the world by the way.  She is gorgeous inside and out…and didn’t mean to do what happened next, honestly. We had watched so many “Just for Me” kiddy-perm commercials that we decided it was our time to be made beautiful like the little black girl on the box with her pink and green beret and cute outfit.  Perhaps fixing our hair will fix the rest of us, we thought.  So my sister decided to give me a perm.  We had to hurry before our mom got back from the grocery store; perms didn’t take that long right?  My sister and I searched underneath my mom’s counter for a few minutes but could only find a bottle of white strong smelling stuff, not a box like the commercials advertised. It smelled bad, so of course it had to be relaxer.  So she put it in.  We waited and waited. Neither of us knew what to do after the stuff was applied to my head.  Swinging my legs back and forth under the rickety chair, we both missed the sound of the front door opening, which meant my dad was home.  He came upstairs, and horror read on his face. He rushed to find some scissors and started cutting away at my beautifully now-relaxed hair.  I cried in protest.  I tried to prevent him from cutting anymore and placed my hands in my hair…and started pulling away clumps of it.  I cried even more.  After my dad had cut away some of my hair, he washed out the rest of the white substance, and then went to work giving me a low cut.  I looked like a boy and I didn’t understand why.  I didn’t understand what had happened and why I started with curly hair and was now left with no hair. The makers of Nair should really label their bottles better.  My first “relaxer experience” stole my hair from me.  It stole the image of beauty I did not know I already had but also desperately longed for.  A relaxer can do that to a woman.  It can make her so desperate for something she will never find that she loses herself in order to worship it. It becomes a god. Honestly, I am still rapidly working to loosen myself from the grips of this aesthetic worship.  I used to wrestle with the notion that my hair has to be straight for some reason or else I look “unkempt”, “crazy”, “dirty.” But I don’t want to hate Africa. I don’t want to hate my roots.  I don’t want to burn them away hoping they will purify who God made me to be into what man has taught me I am supposed to be.  I don’t want to burn away curly roots, committing chemical arson and flat iron massacres on hair that tell of a history that is not straightforward but turns inwards into itself and loops around and gets tangled and accurately reflects more than any other hair what this human life is about.  But this requires appreciating who I am in entirety.  One day I had a spiritual moment concerning my image. I discovered in the mirror that the curious figure in front of me had brown eyes and lovely dark skin to match her course “black-but-sometimes-brownish-red-when-in-the-sun” hair.  God had intended her to look that way, and God called her wonderful. Maybe “fixing” my hair is not the solution, but fixing my perspective and definition of beautiful.  My eyes say that I am beautiful precisely because of how my hair looks, my clothes fit, and my body is shaped; I’d be going back on God’s great handiwork if I tried to “fix” any part of her.  God never asked me to, society did.  “Fixing” me denotes operating like everyone else when I am called to be uniquely lovely.  And I can’t abandon lovely for “what’s in.” I don’t hate my roots anymore, and neither should you.  But rather become fascinated with your roots, your hair, your look.  Examine yourself and realize that your body is a message to others that God created someone fearfully and wonderfully. Become curious to what God did when God created you and what God is doing through your current life, and be glad! And be in awe. Within your existence rests an important message not only about beauty, but about God, the Creator.  Nothing is more beautiful than that. 2010-08-18T03:46:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/keepin_it_real/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/keepin_it_real/#When:18:25:00Z By Margot Starbuck Raising my arm, I highlight the dark round wet spot in my pit. Pointing to my yellowing tooth, I make sure that no one misses it. Grabbing a roll around my middle, I show it off to my new friends. Gross right?  Make a mental note, right now, to not invite me over to dinner.  Ever. I do have an excuse.  As I speak to women about my new book, Unsqueezed, I try to model what it looks like to keep it real.  Instead of hiding my imperfections, or bleaching them, or paying big bucks to have them surgically suctioned out of my body, I go ahead and cut right to the chase.  By Margot Starbuck Raising my arm, I highlight the dark round wet spot in my pit. Pointing to my yellowing tooth, I make sure that no one misses it. Grabbing a roll around my middle, I show it off to my new friends. Gross right?  Make a mental note, right now, to not invite me over to dinner.  Ever. I do have an excuse.  As I speak to women about my new book, Unsqueezed, I try to model what it looks like to keep it real.  Instead of hiding my imperfections, or bleaching them, or paying big bucks to have them surgically suctioned out of my body, I go ahead and cut right to the chase. “Yes, I have invisible eyelashes.” “Yes, there is a ‘W’ after the number printed on the tag of my jeans.” “Yes, my son tells me I make an awesome pillow.” I’m sure more than a few women are a little jarred by the whole experience, but others—starving for even the teeniest glimpse of reality—love it.  Seriously, I can see it in their faces.  I can see them relax, breathe a deep sigh, and know that they’re not alone.  I suspect one of them is thinking, “Well if that gal can limp along through life looking as bad as she does, I can probably make it another day as well.” I do try to inspire. Sometimes, I get more than the sigh.  For instance, I may have been teaching in my church’s women’s bible study and possibly mentioned that I experience, on a daily basis, some panty leakage.  I think it took a few women by surprise, because one of them threw her arms up in the air and shouted, “WOO HOO!”, like she and I were in a special sorority together.  If the revealing personal factoid wasn’t shocking, the random outburst most certainly was. I am pretty convinced that liberation happens as we tell the truth about ourselves, our lives, our bodies.  Telling the truth, keeping it real, liberates us from shame, and it liberates others from shame.  Quite literally, you bless other women around you do.  It is powerful, sweet sisters. Do you know a woman who keeps it real?  We want to know about her!  You can leave a comment here, or enter at Margot’s site, and we’ll have a drawing for you & your nominee to win signed copies of Unsqueezed: Springing Free From Skinny Jeans, Nose Jobs, Highlights & Stilettos (IVP, 2010).  Winners will be posted on Margot’s blog on November 1.  (*We’ll enter you twice when you email a photo of your nominee, at Margot’s site!) 2010-08-12T18:25:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/woman_in_the_mirror/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/woman_in_the_mirror/#When:05:25:00Z By Valerie Cunningham About a year ago I was given the green-light to start exercising again.  I wasn’t really sure how I felt about this, considering it had been 3 years since I had participated in an “official” exercise program.  At the onset of recovery, my extremely malnourished body couldn’t handle it, so my dietician and therapist put me on an exercise hiatus.  Fast-forward three years…now with a healthy mind and body, I had permission to proceed.  Honestly, I had become quite used to the lack of exercise, that I didn’t even want to entertain the thought of pulling out the tanks and yoga pants again.  You see, for the 22 years with ED, I had exercised because he had told me to.  And I didn’t do it in moderation.  Oh no, not this over-achiever…. I was addicted.  If I didn’t get a pre-determined amount of exercise in on a given day, I was a complete failure.  Take a day off due to illness or extreme weather conditions, you ask?  Never.  By Valerie Cunningham About a year ago I was given the green-light to start exercising again.  I wasn’t really sure how I felt about this, considering it had been 3 years since I had participated in an “official” exercise program.  At the onset of recovery, my extremely malnourished body couldn’t handle it, so my dietician and therapist put me on an exercise hiatus.  Fast-forward three years…now with a healthy mind and body, I had permission to proceed.  Honestly, I had become quite used to the lack of exercise, that I didn’t even want to entertain the thought of pulling out the tanks and yoga pants again.  You see, for the 22 years with ED, I had exercised because he had told me to.  And I didn’t do it in moderation.  Oh no, not this over-achiever…. I was addicted.  If I didn’t get a pre-determined amount of exercise in on a given day, I was a complete failure.  Take a day off due to illness or extreme weather conditions, you ask?  Never.  So, I sat with it.  For the past four years, one of my ongoing issues in therapy has been “self care” --- taking time for me, doing things that energize me and fill my tank.  I decided it was time to take the plunge and step out of my comfort zone. So I enrolled in a Pilates class, one of the many forms of exercise I had dabbled in in the past.  At first, it was hard and I did not have the stamina or strength.  But that didn’t matter.  I was taking care of me:  doing something good for my body, clearing my mind, and energizing myself for the tasks ahead.  For the first time in my life, I was exercising not to burn calories.  And on weeks that I was under the weather, I skipped class.  No guilt, no shame.  I’ve been going once a week for about 4 or 5 months and really enjoy it. The other night attendance was unusually low.  This meant that I had a very clear view of myself in the mirror-covered wall.  I glanced…and glanced again.  Then I lingered in the moment.  I looked okay.  No, I looked better than okay. I looked fine.  Actually, I looked better than fine…I looked good. Let me clarify---not sculpted and chiseled good. But I saw curves where there should be curves, and strength and tone where there should be strength and tone.  Rather than being repulsed by the vision reflecting back at me, I had appreciation for it.  I felt comfortable in my own skin.  I actually liked what I saw. Self-acceptance---not easy to come by.  But I had found it.  At least for moment.  And it felt good.  2010-08-04T05:25:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/margot_starbuck_is_lady_gogo/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/margot_starbuck_is_lady_gogo/#When:20:01:00Z Some of you know Margot from here on the True Campaign blog. Well, she just posted her first music video. I’m sure she’ll make millions. Seriously guys, you have to check this out. Some of you know Margot from here on the True Campaign blog. Well, she just posted her first music video. I’m sure she’ll make millions. Seriously guys, you have to check this out. 2010-06-22T20:01:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/im_going_on_a_brain_candy_fast/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/im_going_on_a_brain_candy_fast/#When:17:13:00Z I know way too much about Jesse James right now. I know that his alleged mistress is covered in tattoos. I know that in spite of his unfortunate choice of hairstyle, he is apparently chased by women everywhere he goes. I know that he’s still wearing his wedding ring (as of a few days ago at least) and that he feels remorseful for what he’s done. And I even know that he’s lost his dog a couple times through all of this, but luckily he/she/it was found and has returned home. Which is good, because he needs a friend right now… And there are other, really important things I know. Like that Corey Haim’s funeral was last week and that someone said the city of Toronto would pay for it but then the city said, “um, no…”. And that his Lost Boys pal Corey Feldman got a tattoo in remembrance of him the week of his funeral. Or was it Corey Feldman who died and Corey Haim who got the tattoo? That sounds cold, I know. But I have no true connection to these people (do you?) and it’s all starting to run together. I know way too much about Jesse James right now. I know that his alleged mistress is covered in tattoos. I know that in spite of his unfortunate choice of hairstyle, he is apparently chased by women everywhere he goes. I know that he’s still wearing his wedding ring (as of a few days ago at least) and that he feels remorseful for what he’s done. And I even know that he’s lost his dog a couple times through all of this, but luckily he/she/it was found and has returned home. Which is good, because he needs a friend right now… And there are other, really important things I know. Like that Corey Haim’s funeral was last week and that someone said the city of Toronto would pay for it but then the city said, “um, no…”. And that his Lost Boys pal Corey Feldman got a tattoo in remembrance of him the week of his funeral. Or was it Corey Feldman who died and Corey Haim who got the tattoo? That sounds cold, I know. But I have no true connection to these people (do you?) and it’s all starting to run together. The ugly truth is that for the last half-year or so I’ve stayed pretty tuned in to my People Magazine i-Phone app. And on my flights to and from speaking engagements I’ve also stocked up on hard copies of the mag, along with my favorite guilty pleasure, Vanity Fair. On one hand, (I tell myself) it’s good for me to be in touch w/ the media, particularly for my work with the True Campaign. But recently I’ve been feeling a little challenged about how I’m spending my time. And, more important, what I’m feeding my brain. All this stuff about who’s carrying what handbag, who’s lost weight (or gained it), what color Katherine Heigel’s hair is now and how her dress strap fell down at a recent awards show, not to mention how much money Suri, Shiloh and Violet are worth sells billions of dollars worth of magazines. But what does it really do for any of us? Are we better people for knowing facts (and more often fiction) about people we think we know but really don’t? Does knowing how much someone’s kid is worth do anything to make us feel better about our own? I get why we want to see the stars that gained weight – that makes most any woman feel good. But should it? And when we see them shrink smaller, what message are we telling ourselves? Beyond all of that, what are we NOT feeding our brain when we’re cramming it full of this sugary, non-nutritive stuff? It’s like surviving on cotton candy and never getting a real meal. Eventually, the effects of malnutrition begin to show. I’ve been feeling pretty dry inside lately. There have been seasons in my life where I literally felt God’s truth hitting me from every angle, in a good way. But it’s been a while since I felt that. And as much as I don’t want to give up my brain-candy, I think I’ve got to get into a healthier balance. So on Sunday night I decided to go on a fast of sorts. Now, I know that you’re not supposed to brag about going on a fast. But I’m not telling you this so that you’ll think I’m some ultra-spiritual person, but rather to get it out there and lock myself in. So here goes… Until April 30 I’m going to stay away from all mags (and iPhone apps) and also books that are not specifically focused on some area of spiritual growth. And since I love to read so much, I know that this will push me toward the reading I really need to do. I’ve gotta fill myself back up with good stuff – God’s word and the understanding of it. The rest is just fluff. Like cotton candy, it looks good, but under a stream of water just turns into a tiny, dripping, food colored mess. Which is ok if you’re eating it once in a while. But it’s not enough to live on. And certainly not enough to grow on. 2010-03-22T17:13:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/good_hair/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/good_hair/#When:00:38:00Z About twelve minutes after enthusiastically posting “GOOD HAIR ROCKS!” on my facebook page, I came to my senses and quickly deleted. I’d just enjoyed Chris Rock’s HBO documentary about the African-American hair product industry, Good Hair, and wanted to get the word out.  As the comments started coming in, though, I realized that it wasn’t entirely clear, in cyberspace, whether I was announcing that Rock’s film rocked—which was my clever intention—or I that was touting the fact that smooth shiny bouncy hair sprung effortlessly out of my own scalp. Clearly, those are two very frighteningly different posts. The genesis of Rock’s surprisingly professional inquiry into the black hair industry came when one of his young daughters came to him and asked, “Daddy, how come I don’t have good hair?” His investigation took him through Greensboro, NC, Atlanta, India & Los Angeles where he learned, from men and women, about natural hair, relaxer, perms, weaves and more. About twelve minutes after enthusiastically posting “GOOD HAIR ROCKS!” on my facebook page, I came to my senses and quickly deleted. I’d just enjoyed Chris Rock’s HBO documentary about the African-American hair product industry, Good Hair, and wanted to get the word out.  As the comments started coming in, though, I realized that it wasn’t entirely clear, in cyberspace, whether I was announcing that Rock’s film rocked—which was my clever intention—or I that was touting the fact that smooth shiny bouncy hair sprung effortlessly out of my own scalp. Clearly, those are two very frighteningly different posts. The genesis of Rock’s surprisingly professional inquiry into the black hair industry came when one of his young daughters came to him and asked, “Daddy, how come I don’t have good hair?” His investigation took him through Greensboro, NC, Atlanta, India & Los Angeles where he learned, from men and women, about natural hair, relaxer, perms, weaves and more. For readers who are new to the biz, relaxer (which sounds much more peaceful and soothing than it actually is) is a product which straightens naturally coarse hair.  One comedian, Paul Mooney, noted, from under a huge ‘fro, “If your hair’s relaxed, white people are relaxed.  If your hair is nappy, they aren’t happy.” This funny sentiment was expressed much more seriously by students at Santa Monica High School.  One girl, hair straightened, suggested that applicants for a position at a law firm might not be taken seriously were they to arrive for an interview with a vibrant shock of natural hair.  Though I wish these girls were super-wrong, they’re not.  A friend of mine, who wears her kinky hair natural, teaches at a local grad school.  She’s had some great conversations with students about this very issue.  And although she would like to reassure her students who are entering professional church ministry that they won’t face the same sorts of pre-judgments, she can’t. In the movie, Rock visits a chemist to learn more about the active ingredient in relaxer, sodium hydroxide.  Donning lab coat and safety goggles, the two conduct an experiment to test the impact of the chemical on an aluminum soda can.  After four hours soaking in the chemical solution, the can has completely dissolved!  Which is pretty scary for human heads. Rock explains to the white scientist, “Black people put this in their hair.” Shocked, the chemist asks, “Why would they do that?” Deadpan, Rock replies, “To look white.” And there it is. Musical artist KRS-one comments, “European and Asian hair, the texture, seems to be the style that all women seem to be trying to achieve.” Clearly, this is where it gets kind of dicey.  Critics of Rock’s film, many who are proud black women, don’t really want to be white, do they?  Of course not.  The quickest google will demonstrate that outrageous thing. The fact remains, though, that millions of women are choosing to appear differently than the way we’ve been made.  I personally don’t think it’s a coincidence that the “different” we’re all choosing happens to match the appearance of a ten-inch high, plastic, blonde bombshell. Please hear that: the time, energy and money that goes into changing the way we actually are is not at all particular to black women.  And though Rock doesn’t delve into the coloring, streaking, highlighting bleaching, dying and retouching that white women, and others, pay way too much money to do to ourselves regularly, that weird reality can’t be overlooked.  It’s what we, as humans, do. In the final minutes of the film, actress Tracie Thoms noted, in amazement, “To keep my hair the same texture that it grows out of my head is revolutionary.” Wacky, but true. Beloved, this is the revolution that needs to happen in the Church.  Can you imagine a congregation in which hair and eyes and brows and lips and wrinkles and saggy breasts were presented as they actually are?  (Sorry if that felt jarring) Here’s my two-fold fantasy of how that might look: 1. A visitor to a “natural” church would perceive, “I do not need to be any different than I actually am to be here.  I do not need to be hyper-polished to be accepted here.  This is a place where it’s safe to be real.” (I promise you, this is not the experience of most church visitors today—unless they accidentally show up at church on a night when AA is meeting.  Now that’s some church…) 2. The billions—billions, people—of dollars spent by Christians on beauty products could be redirected for kingdom building.  Beloved, we could change the world if we committed, together, to changing nothing about our physical appearances.  (And how hard is it, really, to do nothing?) Learn how you can participate, right now, at True Shift. Here’s what I want to hear from blog readers: “Where do you see this revolution happening in the church?” I want names, people!  Specifically, I’m interested in the public figures who are living into this reality—that what God has made is, in it’s natural state, good—and are sharing the message with others.  Share with us, below, where you see this kingdom reality being lived out… Margot Starbuck is the author of Unsqueezed: Springing Free From Skinny Jeans, Nose Jobs, Highlights and Stilettos.  Pre-order now at InterVarsity Press or learn more at www.MargotStarbuck.com. 2010-03-10T00:38:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/true_conversation_with_jenni_schaefer/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/true_conversation_with_jenni_schaefer/#When:20:32:00Z Constance talks with author of Goodbye Ed, Hello Me and Life Without Ed, Jenni Schaefer about self-care, perfectionism, identity and saying goodbye to an eating disorder. If podcast is not yet available in iTunes check back in 24 hours. Constance talks with author of Goodbye Ed, Hello Me and Life Without Ed, Jenni Schaefer about self-care, perfectionism, identity and saying goodbye to an eating disorder. If podcast is not yet available in iTunes check back in 24 hours. 2009-12-23T20:32:00-06:00 http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/time_sensitive_join_the_ralph_lauren_boycott/ http://truecampaign.org/index.php/site/time_sensitive_join_the_ralph_lauren_boycott/#When:18:01:00Z Hi friends. I know it’s been a long time since I posted and I have soooo much to tell you, but right now I want to ask you a personal favor. If you care about the millions of women who are struggling with their body image, and if you believe that media images are a contributing factor to this problem, please go NOW to the ATB Boycott Ralph Lauren page on Facebook and add your name to the list. If they can get 10,000 names by THIS FRIDAY, Dec 11, they can start a media blitz like we’ve never seen before. The image below is what got it all started. Shocking, right? I mean, beyond just “skinny imaging.” It’s absurd. Normally we abstain from featuring potentially triggering imaging, but we can’t just bury our heads in the sand and ignore the absurdity of what we’re being told we must embrace as “fashion.” Hi friends. I know it’s been a long time since I posted and I have soooo much to tell you, but right now I want to ask you a personal favor. If you care about the millions of women who are struggling with their body image, and if you believe that media images are a contributing factor to this problem, please go NOW to the ATB Boycott Ralph Lauren page on Facebook and add your name to the list. If they can get 10,000 names by THIS FRIDAY, Dec 11, they can start a media blitz like we’ve never seen before. The image below is what got it all started. Shocking, right? I mean, beyond just “skinny imaging.” It’s absurd. Normally we abstain from featuring potentially triggering imaging, but we can’t just bury our heads in the sand and ignore the absurdity of what we’re being told we must embrace as “fashion.” It’s got to stop. And the guy who started the boycott (Darryl Roberts of “America The Beautiful” fame) is THE guy who can make it happen. But not without all of us. You can make a difference by adding your name to the boycott. Don’t plan to do it later. Do it now. And help start a revolution that has been a long time coming. Click here to sign up. PS. AFTER you sign up, click to read the Huffington Post article about how Ralph bumped ATB off CNN to talk about the story. With 10,000 signatures we’ll get our shot yet! 2009-12-09T18:01:00-06:00