I Choose to L.I.V.E. - Embracing the Real Me. Saunya Williams, Ph.D.

are wonderful to have, some people have attached a superiority complex to their professional success. After investing a lot of work and experiencing great success, many people become self-consumed and pour heavily into their own ego. Similarly, it is very easy to look at a person’s resume and attempt to draw a simple conclusion, but a person’s story cannot be written like a linear equation.

      For instance, a person may be rich in reference to salary, but that person may be poor in reference to being saved. A person may have a name with an executive title, but that person’s name may not be written in the Lamb’s Book of Life. A person may be committed to exceling in the top percentile of higher education, but that person may have failed “101” of God’s curriculum. At times, you may only see the effort that you have put forth, and the sacrifices that you have made along the way so you may feel that you deserve all of the credit. On the contrary, you must give all of the glory to God because there is no achievement that exceeds the favor that comes from Him.

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      Saunya M. Williams, Ph.D.

      Social Status

      I define the bondage of Social Status as when a person allows their personal value to be held hostage to societal standards and praise. The praise from others is what some people use to appease their feelings of insecurity and inadequacy. I have witnessed how far some people will go to falsify details about themselves in an attempt to be more attractive and obtain more applause. With the advent of certain applications, there are people that depend on their number of “friends” or “followers” to stimulate self-esteem. The convenience of technology has given way for people to use social media, and the amount of “likes” that are received to try to boost their own prominence. Furthermore, several people seem to enjoy living their lives through the channels of social media and welcome the intrusive nature in an effort to gain attention.

      Personally, I am a fan of social media because it provides an opportunity to reach those that would normally be unreachable and to communicate with the entire world. The popularity and technological evolution of social media has enabled pervasive use within our local and global societies. Equally, I also recognize that the use of social media can be harmful when malice is the intent. That is why I believe that we should all be cautious and particular about whom we call friend. Indeed, there is a difference between an acquaintance and a friend. How do you determine who gets added to the contact list of your social network? Are you motivated by the people that just know your name or by the people that actually seek to know you personally?

      As a young girl, all I could do was try to look beautiful and present myself as normal because I did not feel normal at all. In fact, I felt damaged, contaminated, and utterly destroyed because I was left alone to deal with the battle of being abused. I excelled academically, yet my stepfather told me that I was stupid and would never amount to anything. I was a virgin, yet he called me a whore. I was a child, yet he wanted me to perform the sexual acts of an adult. I was defenseless, yet he kept putting me in situations that required me to fight. I was innocent, yet he caused me to feel like I was sentenced to a lifetime of guilt.

      I despised the things that my stepfather used to say to me, and the fact that I would feel like I was clothed in dirt. Being

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      a child, I could not comprehend why I was being targeted and could not imagine what I had done to deserve such disgusting and inexcusable treatment. My cry seemed to always fall upon deaf ears, and my grasp for help seemed to always return void. Although my mind was twisted and confused, I was certain that I never wanted other people to develop a similar perception or to echo similar statements about me. I felt confident that wearing a mask was my only way to survive in a life that was such a horrible reality. From that point forward, I knew that makeup would be my solution and allow me to bandage the emotional poverty that had me bound.

      The good news is that God could not care less about your social status because His love is truly unconditional. God should never be treated like an acquaintance, and the communication that you have with Him should extend far beyond a casual post to His “spiritual page.” You have to be intentional about having a personal relationship with God. When it comes to your connection with God, it is not about just knowing His name, but you must know God for yourself.

      Aesthetic Appeal

      I define the bondage of Aesthetic Appeal as when a person allows their personal value to be held hostage to their sense of beauty. I recognize that the classification of beauty can be rather subjective because what is beautiful to one person may not be beautiful to another. With this type of bondage, I am referring to how an individual identifies with beauty, and what makes that individual feel attractive. For example, some people may allow the social definitions and criteria to dictate what is beautiful while other people may establish their own measures. The emphasis of attractiveness is most often on the outward appearance so it is easy for a person to become heavily focused on personal aesthetics.

      Out of all of the bondage categories that I described, I was bound to Aesthetic Appeal. From the age of 10-15, I was constantly molested, and physically and verbally abused by my stepfather. I was initially attracted to the attention because my stepfather was spending so much time with me, and I was

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      Saunya M. Williams, Ph.D.

      the only child at 10 years of age. I enjoyed having a friend that was always available, but I soon realized that his attention was not of a friendly nature. My relationship with my stepfather would vacillate between him being my best friend and him being someone that I desperately tried to avoid.

      When the abuse became more frequent, I did not know how to manage the emotional roller coaster that I was riding on because it never came to a stop. Subsequently, I was covered in emotional scars so I searched for a camouflage to provide aesthetic restoration. I connected beauty to love, which were the most important things that I felt had escaped me at a young age. I began to believe that my beauty was the key to genuine love, and that genuine love would accompany my beauty. As a result, I began to use my mother’s cosmetics to try to cover my emotional wounds and appear to be someone that I was not.

      As a young girl, all I could do was try to look beautiful and present myself as normal because I did not feel normal at all. In fact, I felt damaged, contaminated, and utterly destroyed because I was left alone to deal with the battle of being abused. I excelled academically, yet my stepfather told me that I was stupid and would never amount to anything. I was a virgin, yet he called me a whore. I was a child, yet he wanted me to perform the sexual acts of an adult. I was defenseless, yet he kept putting me in situations that required me to fight. I was innocent, yet he caused me to feel like I was sentenced to a lifetime of guilt.

      I despised the things that my stepfather used to say to me, and the fact that I would feel like I was covered in dirt. Being a child, I could not comprehend why I was being targeted and could not imagine what I had done to deserve such disgusting and inexcusable treatment. My cry seemed to always fall upon deaf ears, and my grasp for help seemed to always return void. Although my mind was twisted and confused, I was certain that I never wanted other people to develop a similar perception or to echo similar statements about me. I felt confident that wearing a mask was my only way to survive in a life that was such a horrible reality. From this point, I knew that makeup would be my solution and allow me to bandage my emotional poverty.

      Starting at the age of 11, I began to believe that I was worthless so makeup easily became my means to disguise my

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      pain and enabled me to sketch a beautiful life onto an empty soul. I would sneak and use my mother’s makeup to do the best that I could to make myself look pretty because I believed that the abuse had made me so ugly. I had learned about makeup by watching my mother so I was confident that I had enough skill to emulate her. I remember how I used to get chastised by my mother for always lying about wearing makeup. I would wipe off my makeup before I arrived home from school, but I did not realize that my red-stained lips and “raccoon eyes” were the keys to my guiltiness.

      During those years,