A young woman in a facebook group who I had sent a friend request to responded in a way I hadn’t expected.
I told her I was writing a book called WHAT HAS YOUR SISTER DONE – Stories of Unplanned Pregnancy. “If you know anyone who has a story they’d like to submit, please have them send it to my email at firstname.lastname@example.org,” I wrote.
“My dear trash, are you serious?” she responded.
Maybe she’d heard of my blog. Was she a fan?
“Yep, that’s me,” I replied with confidence, not reading into her repulsive tone yet.
“I will never send anyone to you, no way.”
For a moment, I didn’t understand. Did she not know I’m advocating for the unborn, searching for those tender stories of unplanned pregnancy, trying to help others in similar circumstances. And then I realized, My Dear Trash. Oh my gosh. Was I serious? This was awful.
My Dear Trash – finding value where others may not see it. That’s the core principle this blog was started on. I wrote it up on my first blog post almost nine years ago.
My Dear Trash – a great title while writing about my latest thrift store finds, or how I dumpster dived and saved a vintage vanity from landfill death.
My Dear Trash – because we as a society throw so much away, too much away when there’s still value in our trash and I’ve spent almost a decade proving it. I’ve made a living off of other people’s trash.
My Dear Trash – written by someone who has felt like trash most of her life. And why would she? She has a beautiful family, seems to be together (most of the time anyway), oh, but my story had just started. I’d been peeling away at it ever since I sold used name-brand clothing I found at thrift stores on eBay. I’ve been trying to find value in my self the entire time, not those designer Rock n Republic Jeans, not that .99 cent used Eileen Fisher cashmere sweater I sold for $100, but me.
My Dear Trash – about so much more then thrift stores and vintage trends.
My Dear Trash – a blog about babies? My baby? What type of society would ever deem a baby as trash? Sickening. Babies thrown away? Not in
. No woman, no mother would consider such a thing, would they. America
My Dear Trash – sexual abuse, that nasty statistic that 1 out of 3 girls in this country experiences that lead me to feeling worthless even when my life was filled with tremendous bounty. The reality of a pregnancy scare after I was sexually abused, how food addiction and negative body image has been a cover up for shame and hurt, how abortion is not just about women ending their unplanned pregnancy, but about dysfunctional abusive men who continue taking advantage of women. Do these men find value in women or do they see them as trash? It had been a lie I’d taken responsibility for way too long.
My Dear Trash - I was a young girl when I first saw the image of an aborted baby in a book my mom was reading. Why was that baby thrown away? I was raised by an activist mom who coined the term “prebirth studies.” She collected stories from women all around the world who had seen their unborn children in dreams or visions. Ultimately, her research dared her to ask the question “What happens to the soul of an aborted baby?” Through more research and pivotal stories of abortion, survival, overcoming and second-chances, my mom was able to start a controversial discussion that still continues: Are our children alive before they are born?
My mom's book can be found here.
My Dear Trash – With all I knew about abortion, what would I decide when facing my own unplanned pregnancy?
So what do I say, to the girl who’s offended by the name of my blog? I sent her a link to my most recent post, how my son, this most loved and adored baby who came into my life almost two years ago, is my perfect expression, how his life has given my immeasurable purpose, how his influence has transformed my children outward and I watch in awe as they love and nurture him.
My beautiful family at Christmas time this year.
I learned in the most meaningful way that children just like my baby deserve a chance at life and that abortion is one of the cruelest, most dysfunctional options a society can ever offer a women.
The link to the blog post My Baby is My Perfect Expression is here.
My Dear Trash – because much we throw away has tremendous value, especially if we are throwing away our babies.
So very thankful was I when this girl responded within moments of my message. “I understand,” she said. “You are most loved by God for all you are doing. Thank you.”
I’m glad she questioned the name of my blog, as it’s given me time to consider the many meanings it has offered to me. Never could I have discovered a more deserving, meaningful, richly deep and purposeful name. It was given to me in a dream and I write about this experience and other experiences in my memoir Starving Girl.
My book can be found here.
In other news, December 2016 was my last month at
Merchant Square and . My workshop is cleaned out. No more vintage furniture. I’ve given away paint, my collection of old scrap wood and a part of my heart had to close too. My mirrors, those I’m still holding onto (not sure why) and my giant box of vintage drawer handles and knobs, that’s going to take some time to sort through and part with. I’ve bonded with many aspects of furniture restoration, seeing something so old, junky, thrown out, forgotten – but if I spend some time, with a gentle touch, an artistic eye, I’ve had the privilege of bringing these pieces back to life. Why stop now? Two shops, a steady cash flow, more opportunities just over the horizon, but the truth is, I’ve out grown the task all together. I’m a writer now and painting furniture is not going to get me to my dreams. Antique Plaza