I often wrestle with what it means to be beautiful and I how I live that out. I’m a huge believer that beauty shines from the inside out, but when it comes to what I see in the mirror, I can’t seem to apply that rubric. As someone currently struggling with my own self-esteem, I can assure you that logic doesn’t play much of a role in how I actually see myself.

Meanwhile, the feminist in me struggles with my sincere love of makeup. I see all these underlying societal structures profiting off of my desire to level up my look. But these thoughts do nothing to tamper my passion for this kind of pampering.

There was a time when I rarely wore makeup. I played around with it as a kid, but that was only at home. In high school, I used only a little bit and hardly even that. It was the same in university, and even into my first few years in the workforce. This was when beauty bloggers and YouTubers were taking off, and I began to notice that my makeup game was not on point. Getting there felt totally unattainable. It required shopping in the right places, knowing the right products, having the right tools, and mastering the right skills. I didn’t even have the right language to enter that world. On my wedding day, I asked my makeup artist for a smokey eye, not realizing it would be done with dark makeup. I didn’t really even like the end result. Makeup was just another thing I wasn’t measuring up in.

But then, I got liquid eyeliner for Christmas. I went to YouTube to try to learn how to use that and quickly got sucked into the whole makeup world. I discovered the tips and tricks I needed to wear the kind of makeup I wanted to. I’ve been hooked ever since.

I realize that I now fall into the category of women whose makeup is a step above. I used to tell Dan that he’d know it was a fancy occasion when I wore more than one eyeshadow shade. Now I blend multiple shades on my lid even when I’m going for a more natural makeup look! In the circles I run in, I’m usually the person with the most makeup on in a room. People tell me I should teach classes…

But I’m not trying to be exclusionary. I don’t want other women to feel like they’re not measuring up when they stand beside me. The last thing I want is to make someone feel worse about themselves because of how my face looks.

I don’t wear makeup to try to look better than others. I don’t even do it to cover up flaws.

When you’re a mom of three boys, married ten years, running around all day taking care of things… it’s easy to never put yourself first. It is easy to never feel beautiful. It is easy to barely get a moment of time to yourself. Can I get an “Amen!” from the tired moms staying up way too late just to find some quiet and alone time?

Makeup gives me some of this back. Makeup gives me a reason to stand in the bathroom with the door shut for a while. (I mean, I also do that without a reason, but I prefer to have a reason. Otherwise, I’m just sitting on the step stool which is also a potty playing Clash Royale on my phone, just to catch a break). Makeup lets me be proud of my appearance when I can’t think of any other reasons. Makeup even gives me an excuse to splurge on myself now and then. When I don’t feel good about myself, it isn’t because I’m not wearing makeup, but makeup can give me a reason to love what I see in the mirror. And I need that sometimes.

I would never want to make women feel bad for how much makeup they wear (or don’t wear). But I love the idea of encouraging women to do things that help them feel beautiful, that boosts their self-esteem, and that allows them to take moments for themselves. We spend so much time caring for others, it is important to care for ourselves too.

It doesn’t have to be hard to indulge in these moments of self-care. As a SHOPPERS LOVE. YOU. Ambassador, I’ve been able to learn all about their Beauty Galas, which are held multiple times a year in local Shoppers Drug Marts. These are part of Shoppers Drug Mart’s goal to put women’s health first and help all women across Canada stay focused on being their best in body, mind, and spirit.

On May 5th, all Canadians are invited to the Spring Beauty Galas, held in stores nationwide. (Select stores will be hosting their Beauty Galas on Friday evening May 4th, so check your store in advance!) When you come, you’ll receive a beautiful makeover or a personalized skin consultation. Each store puts their own personal spin on the Gala, which often includes raffles, prizes and gifts, so don’t miss all the fun your store has planned!

Tickets can be purchased at your local Shoppers Drug Mart beauty counter for $10, with $5 going to a local women’s mental health charity. The other $5 is redeemable towards a cosmetic purchase on the day of the gala.

There’s so much value to showing yourself some much-needed love. When you go to the Spring Beauty Gala, you get to do that while providing a positive impact on the lives of other women in your community. Sign up for a Beauty Gala at your local Shoppers Drug Mart.

I still believe that beauty shines from the inside. But sometimes I need a little help feeling bright. Maybe you do too.

PS: Have you signed up for your local SHOPPERS LOVE. YOU. Run for Women series race yet? Don’t forget that when you join the “LOVE.YOU. Ambassadors” team happening in every city, you have a chance to win one of two awesome prizes! I gave you all the details here. My run is on Sunday, May 6th in Moncton, NB – I’d love for you to join me!

Disclosure: I am so excited to be a SHOPPERS LOVE. YOU. Ambassador. This means that I received monetary compensation for this blog post (and this one) I am thrilled to partner in this because of my passion for women’s issues, mental health, and my very healthy (right?) addiction to makeup.

The post Beauty to Love. You. appeared first on a blog by Laura O'Rourke.

I’m an objectively positive person. I realize it is odd to claim something that feels quite subjective, but actually, in doing some strength-based testing at my job, it turns out that I can claim “positivity” as one of my top five attributes. I shouldn’t be surprised. No matter my age, the most common compliment I have ever received was for my smile.

Despite being able to see the good when many others can’t, I’m not consistently positive. In fact, in understanding my positivity more, I have come to realize that by being this way, I’m not protecting myself against negativity. My good attitude can only withstand so much coming at it. Being positive means I seek out positivity as well, so when I can’t find any, I can quickly sink.

Once, when I was in middle school, a guy friend that I had a crush on told me that my eyes looked like barf. I held on to that hurtful statement for years. I told myself that my one true love would be the person who found my eyes intoxicating. He would get lost in them while singing Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl to me. He would, without prompting, reverse the heartbreak from middle-school by telling me that I had the most beautiful eyes in the world. And that is how I would know that I had found the person to marry.

It probably wasn’t until I experienced being pregnant for the first time that I really ever loved my body. All of a sudden, my stomach was something to show off instead of being ashamed of it. I wanted it to get bigger and rounder. I began to feel the strength I had to carry that baby, to birth that baby, to nurture that baby, to love that baby… I discovered a strength I never even imagined I had.

That body-love just continued (at least for a little bit). While my post-partum body began to discourage me, the newfound recognition of my strength helped me find new ways to embrace myself. I could keep feeling body-positivity as long as I continued to find ways to remind myself of my strength.

That’s when I started running for the first time. I hated running before. Suddenly it was something I could do to prove my strength to myself day in and day out. Each day I managed to tie my sneakers was a win. I celebrated each time I increased my distance or my speed or shortened my walk times. I ran right over the negative messages I was constantly hearing. And I did it because I could. I had the strength to do it. I only had to prove it to myself. I began to love to run; I loved discovering my own strength, and I loved how I felt afterwards. Those feelings permeated into every part of my life. I felt confident. I loved myself.

I have since learned that everyone can benefit from running, and not just for the obvious reasons. Of course, exercise is great for physical health, but aerobic exercise – like jogging – is newly recommended in guidelines to help treat mild to moderate anxiety or depression. In fact, research shows exercise that raises your heart rate for at least 25 minutes can have the same effect on your brain as anti-depressant drugs! I have struggled with my own mental health challenges, and my worn-out sneakers know first-hand (or, first-foot, if you will) just how true this is.

Everyone can benefit from running, and not just for the obvious reasons. Aerobic exercise - like jogging - is newly recommended to help treat mild to moderate anxiety or depression.
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My first baby is eight now. Most days, I feel so far away from that strong woman who ran herself right into positivity. These days I am sometimes overtaken by the negative voices questioning my worth. My guess is that I’m not alone in this. I found new strength in fighting those voices, but I’ve been doing that for far too long now. I need to love myself again.

This whole 2018 year has felt like an exercise in trying to be body-positive again. I’ve succeeded and I’ve failed and I’m trying. I’m trying not to tie how I feel about my body to the scale. I’m trying not to tie it to how much I eat in any given day. I admit that it’s a struggle sometimes. Sometimes I need to find the positivity by being extra healthy, and sometimes I need to find it in giving myself grace. What I know is I have to rediscover my strength again. No matter how each day goes, when I feel strong, I can love myself.

When I feel strong, I can love myself.
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On this journey, I’m running a race. I was planning to run races this summer (I hardly ran any last year!) so when Shoppers Drug Mart asked me to be an Ambassador for the SHOPPERS LOVE. YOU. Run for Women series, I could not have been more excited. I’m doing this race for me, and I’m doing it for other women. The most beautiful thing about the Run for Women races is that they support local mental health initiatives for women. In 2017, Run for Women set a record, raising $1.9 million, and this year the target is set even higher at $2.2 million! Every dollar raised allow women to take the next steps to mental health recovery.

You can run or walk this race with me! Come join me on May 6th in Moncton, NB by signing up under the LOVE. YOU. Ambassadors team. When you do that, you’ll have the chance to win one $150 gift card from Shoppers Drug Mart, or a pair of If you’re not able to be in Moncton on May 6th, don’t worry! You can still sign up for the “LOVE.YOU. Ambassadors” team in  (excluding Quebec). In each city, only registrants on the “LOVE. YOU. Ambassadors” team will have the chance to win.

Here’s how you register:

1. Select the city you want to run or walk in
2. Answer whether or not you are a Shoppers Drug Mart employee
3. Copy/Paste “LOVE. YOU. Ambassadors” into the team search bar
4. Register for the 5k run/walk team, with your information

I hope you’ll join me. It is my way of helping to tear down the negativity that is thrown at us day in and day out. Together we can help reduce stigma around mental wellness.

Reduce the stigma around mental illness by running or walking one of the SHOPPERS LOVE. YOU. Run for Women series races.
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Let’s find that strength that every woman has inside.

Oh, and the man I actually married? He never told me that my eyes were the most beautiful eyes in the world. Instead, he can’t get enough of my smile lines. It seems what I really needed was someone who saw my strength.

Disclosure: I am so excited to be a SHOPPERS LOVE. YOU. Ambassador. This means that I received monetary compensation for this blog post (and another one coming soon!) I am thrilled to partner in this because of my passion for women’s issues, mental health, and my very healthy addiction to running races.

The post Running to Love.You. appeared first on a blog by Laura O'Rourke.

Sometimes, when you can’t seem to find Lent, Lent finds you.

Knowing me means knowing that I love the big two liturgical seasons in the church calendar. I didn’t grow up in a church that particularly focused on the liturgical calendar however we still intentionally entered into Lent and Advent. We participated in in our desire to draw nearer to God during these seasons. I remember my mom in particular living out these seasons in beautiful worship and obedience. I fell in love with them first because of how my mother was living out her faith, and then again as I practised living out these seasons deliberately myself.

I have lived out Lent in many iterations. I have given up both physical things and bad habits. I’ve adopted good, spiritual practices. I’ve expressed my freedom in Christ by choosing to change absolutely nothing. For the past few years especially, I’ve approached Lent with the anticipation that I approach every well-loved season with, expecting to encounter God all over again, even in the darkness (whether that darkness is manufactured or experienced) that Lent always seems to bring.

This year, however, I’ve really been struggling.

Maybe everyone gets to say that about Lent. Or maybe that’s kind of the point? Time spent in the desert (40 years were the Israelites wandering the desert in the Old Testament of the Bible; 40 days was Jesus in the desert fasting in the New Testament) doesn’t sound all that inviting. Metaphorical deserts are probably even less inviting (says someone who has never really been in a real desert).

Perhaps the real problem is that my practice of Lent has been less than deliberate this year. I’m being sucked into the desert rather than purposefully entering it, which makes me a little defensive if I’m honest. I’d rather choose to enter that place willingly, rather than find myself there. (Wouldn’t we all?).

For most people, Lent in synonymous with fasting. I wondered if I should fast. I prayed about fasting. But I felt like I decidedly should not fast.

You see, I’ve had a pretty unhealthy relationship with food lately. If I’m being particularly introspective I can see it reaching back two years, and echoing an unhealthy relationship with food and negative thoughts about my body that started in high school. It has become particularly acute in the last few months though. I was working on getting healthier physically, which was playing a slight role in boosting my confidence, but I still knew there was some work to do mentally. I had lost close to 20 pounds using healthy methods since the new year started, but I could tell I was still struggling with my relationship with food.

While I have no doubt that God can help with the healing I am working towards, I also knew it would be unhealthy for me to spiritualize my current relationship to food. Instead, I felt challenged to try to get my head to a healthier place about my body.

It clearly wasn’t working though, because I got an ulcer. All of a sudden, my stomach was causing me all sorts of pain and I had to learn how to feed it to avoid the pain. I was no longer feeding myself to look a certain way. First, when I thought I had a stomach bug, I was feeding myself for that. Eventually, when I realized what was going on, I was able to know that filling my stomach was actually the best thing I could do. I could no longer go hungry because going hungry would cause the pain to start again.

I stopped watching what I ate. I stopped counting calories. I stopped running. I stopped stepping on the scale. I stopped losing weight.

Ironically, what I needed during Lent was the opposite of fasting. I needed just to eat, without feeling condemned for it. I needed to feel a different kind of hunger. I needed to feed my heart instead of starve it. I needed to see myself through new eyes. I needed a reset to the pattern I was in. And when I couldn’t do it myself, it was done for me.

Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies. 1 Corinthains 6:19-20

I’m beginning to heal physically. And mentally too. Now, I think, my Lenten challenge is to enter into a spiritual healing. My ulcer put a stop to all my habits, including the spiritual practices I had well in place for over a year.

I’m not out of the desert yet.

But I don’t think I want to be. Lent is a practice, not a perfect. So I get to learn about grace all over again as I continue to fail; as I continue to need healing; as I continue to try to define myself not by what I see, but by how God sees me.

Let the king be enthralled by your beauty; honour him, for he is your lord. Psalm 45:11

Lent is a practice, not a perfect.
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The post Bent by Lent appeared first on Laura O'Rourke.

We put the tree up last night. While it was only December 7th, it felt incredibly late to me. I have been stressing about this tree, worrying that we wouldn’t even find the time this season to get one up. We’ve been so busy with new routines and schedules lately.

There’s nothing on the tree yet. For now, it is just a tree standing in a brand new Christmas tree stand (a quick purchase after water poured all over our hardwood floor while trying to water the new tree last night). This is the time to let the branches fall after they’ve spent so long tied up, bundled, and constrained. We had an idea of the shape, but now we get to see it for all its fullness. The branches will settle and we’ll be able to more easily access each one to decorate it into beauty.

I’m amazed this Advent of how many things remind me to stop and slow down. I’m not sure I’m getting the hint. My Advent calendar is full of tea. I’m pretty sure it is against the very nature of tea to let you drink it in a rush. It must steep. Wait. It is too hot. Wait. Smell. Then taste. Savour.

I could have stayed up until midnight last night putting the lights and the garland on the tree to make it ready to be decorated by the family, but despite my energy and adrenaline and desire to make Christmas perfect, I was forced to wait. The tree needed to settle.

I need to settle.

I started a new job a little over a year ago. Dan started a new job a little less than a year after that. (If you can make sense of that, it means he started a new job recently). I still don’t feel like we’ve settled yet. My complaint is always now that we haven’t found the right new routine. We’re still navigating the mess of calendars and schedules and expectations that mostly conflict instead of cohere. We’ll get there. We just need to let things settle into place, rather than insisting we get to the next part of the process right away.

I’m not good at that.

This morning during my quiet time, the moments I take to settle into the day, to water my thirsty soul, I realized I keep reaching and striving for perfection. This isn’t new. I’ve been a perfectionist from the beginning. But today I was convicted. Through my constant climbing towards perfectionism, I’m stretching towards god – but not the God I thought I was reaching out for. I’m trying to make myself perfect instead of finding grace. I’m trying to make myself into the god of my own life instead of recognizing my need for a God. I’m trying to make Christmas instead of finding it.

A Christmas tree may be a pagan symbol adopted by this oddly beautiful secular/Christian/pagan holiday, but it is allowing me to settle into the true meaning of Christmas. It reminds me of the tree that brought on the need for the Baby, and the tree that righted it all. And, it reminds me to stop climbing for a never attainable perfection but to recognize that the perfect One who covers me in grace is close enough to touch.

The Christmas tree allows us to settle into the true meaning of Christmas. It reminds us of the tree that brought on the need for the Baby, and the tree that righted it all.
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The post As The Tree Settles appeared first on Laura O'Rourke.

We put the tree up last night. While it was only December 7th, it felt incredibly late to me. I have been stressing about this tree, worrying that we wouldn’t even find the time this season to get one up. We’ve been so busy with new routines and schedules lately.

There’s nothing on the tree yet. For now, it is just a tree standing in a brand new Christmas tree stand (a quick purchase after water poured all over our hardwood floor while trying to water the new tree last night). This is the time to let the branches fall after they’ve spent so long tied up, bundled, and constrained. We had an idea of the shape, but now we get to see it for all its fullness. The branches will settle and we’ll be able to more easily access each one to decorate it into beauty.

I’m amazed this Advent of how many things remind me to stop and slow down. I’m not sure I’m getting the hint. My Advent calendar is full of tea. I’m pretty sure it is against the very nature of tea to let you drink it in a rush. It must steep. Wait. It is too hot. Wait. Smell. Then taste. Savour.

I could have stayed up until midnight last night putting the lights and the garland on the tree to make it ready to be decorated by the family, but despite my energy and adrenaline and desire to make Christmas perfect, I was forced to wait. The tree needed to settle.

I need to settle.

I started a new job a little over a year ago. Dan started a new job a little less than a year after that. (If you can make sense of that, it means he started a new job recently). I still don’t feel like we’ve settled yet. My complaint is always now that we haven’t found the right new routine. We’re still navigating the mess of calendars and schedules and expectations that mostly conflict instead of cohere. We’ll get there. We just need to let things settle into place, rather than insisting we get to the next part of the process right away.

I’m not good at that.

This morning during my quiet time, the moments I take to settle into the day, to water my thirsty soul, I realized I keep reaching and striving for perfection. This isn’t new. I’ve been a perfectionist from the beginning. But today I was convicted. Through my constant climbing towards perfectionism, I’m stretching towards god – but not the God I thought I was reaching out for. I’m trying to make myself perfect instead of finding grace. I’m trying to make myself into the god of my own life instead of recognizing my need for a God. I’m trying to make Christmas instead of finding it.

A Christmas tree may be a pagan symbol adopted by this oddly beautiful secular/Christian/pagan holiday, but it is allowing me to settle into the true meaning of Christmas. It reminds me of the tree that brought on the need for the Baby, and the tree that righted it all. And, it reminds me to stop climbing for a never attainable perfection but to recognize that the perfect One who covers me in grace is close enough to touch.

The Christmas tree allows us to settle into the true meaning of Christmas. It reminds us of the tree that brought on the need for the Baby, and the tree that righted it all.
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The post As The Tree Settles appeared first on Mommy Miracles.