Seriously, Enough With the Creepy Elves

Merry Christmas, Everyone! 

It's been a minute since I've written a post (I took a job with the Montana GOP that kept me crazy busy), but there's something that's been on my mind since the first week of December that has officially crept under my skin to the point that it's time I take to my keyboard and share my thoughts and ideas, although scattered they may be, with the world. 

Anyone who has had even a semi lengthy conversation with me knows that 1) I am hardly a prude 2) my sense of humor can, at times, become very dark and twisted. Like most people, I get a kick out of the "Naughty Elf on a Shelf" pictures. You know, the ones where the elf is doing something not quite befitting of Buddy the Elf, like this little guy: 

That image is obviously one of the more mild ones you will see during a quick google images search of "Naughty Elf on the Shelf."  I will admit, I laughed at these slightly darker pictures a little harder than I probably should have. 

 

Haha horrible, right? As I said, I am no prude and I can definitely laugh at inappropriate things, but to me, the following images cross a line.

        

At this point I'm sure some of you are rolling your eyes and thinking, "come on, Samantha, don't take this so seriously, it's just a doll, joke, etc." but you see, it's not a joke, not to me. Hear me out: as someone who was raped, I am painfully aware that we live in a society where rape culture and victim shaming are all too common. Images like this that make light of violent crimes, especially against women, do not help. They don't help victims of sexual crimes, and they continue to perpetuate negative attitudes that contribute to the reasons victims of sexual assault often do not report the attack. They also have an emotional impact on the victims even once they've sought help. I can honestly tell you that images like these are mildly triggering for me, and I don't even suffer from severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (anymore). My heart aches for my brothers and sisters out there who are still working through their traumatic experiences and stumble upon images like these as they scroll through their news feed. 

I personally find these "jokes" so upsetting because Elf on the Shelf was originally thought up as a means to bring more joy into the lives of children during Christmas time. While I am all for pushing the line of appropriateness with most things, there's a fine line between having a dark sense of humor and encouraging, even unintentionally, horrific violence against others. 

With that, I will hop down from my soapbox fashioned from gingerbread and hope for visions of sugar plum fairies while I try to sleep. To my fellow dirty birds who understand the line of appropriateness, keep the funny Elf on the Shelf pictures coming, I actually look forward to them all year.

I Never Would Have Imagined

About this time two years ago, I made what some people would probably call the biggest mistake of my life. 

About this time two years ago, I sent a text message with my address to the person I thought was my new gay best friend to come over and have a "girls night" with me.

In that moment, I never would have imagined that that one action would cause me, a few short hours later, to be drugged and raped. 

Hours later, as I laid on the floor begging God to let my heart stop beating, I never would have imagined that two years later, if I was given the chance to go back to that night, I would still send that text message.

     It's true, the months that followed were the hardest, darkest days of my life. But within those dark days were some of the most beautiful moments anyone could ever hope to experience. 

     Despite what I had just been through, I met and I fell in love with a wonderful man who showed me what it meant to be loved and cared for, forever raising the bar on how I expect to be treated. I spent Valentine's Day on the beach, watching the sun set, thanking God that I was still alive. 

     Around the same time, I made friends with five people I grew to love as family, who have been the greatest, most supportive friends anyone could hope to have.

     I got my heart broken. I moved home and worked for the summer, had adventures, and was a bridesmaid along the way. 

     I went back to school. I fell in love again, with someone who, once again, showed me what real love was and held my hand through some dark nights as I underwent exposure therapy to overcome the events from the previous year. 

     I felt God pulling me in a new direction and moved home to compete in a pageant where I shared my story with as many people as would hear it, and, based on the messages I received and cherish, I helped touch the lives of many others who had also been hurt. 

I  survived.

 I LIVED. 

To the monster who tried to tried to destroy me: you did NOT succeed, and although I never would have imagined it possible in those early hours of the morning on August 30th, 2014, I became so much better, so much kinder, and so much stronger because of you. Because of you, I grew even closer to a God I already loved, and gained a new perspective on all the many, many blessings He bestowed on me after your heinous crime. So for that, I thank you, and may God have mercy on your soul. 

As for me, I'm doing better than I ever would have imagined. 

Post Pageant Musings

Now that the pageant has come and gone, and I can finally eat more than just almonds, apples, and salads (bring on the chocolate!), I've had time to reflect on the whirlwind that was this past week. 

I didn't win the crown, but I won Montana's Choice by a landslide. It meant more to me than I can put into words that my family and friends, those who actually know me and what I stand for, instead of a panel of 5 strangers, wanted me as their Miss Montana so much that they literally spent thousands of dollars to vote for me. For that, I thank each and every one of you for believing in me and supporting me.

While I can't say that the pageant itself promoted a lot of personal growth or development for me, it was a vehicle for a lot of amazing spiritual experiences. I had to rely on God completely to get me through that week. So much so that on the night of the pageant, as I stood back stage, getting ready to play piano, I was freaking out. I started praying, more like begging, my Father in Heaven to give me strength. In that moment, I heard the words in my head, "fear not, for I am with thee" and almost instantly an overwhelming calm came over me. I walked out on stage, played my piece almost perfectly, and walked off stage to wait. The second I was clear of the curtains, my legs gave out, and my body began to shake. It was as if someone had literally been walking with me, holding me up, and then was gone. 

When I first made the decision to compete in Miss Montana, I made the statement that if I only reached one person in the audience, it would all be worth it, and I frequently prayed for opportunities to help those who needed to hear my message. I think that prayer was answered during the second  night of preliminaries (thank you to my stealthy photographer) 

                                     

The applause I heard, which didn't cease until after I exited the stage, told me my message resounded with many in the audience, and my first thought as I walked through the curtains was, "that was it, that was why I came here." 

I'm not sure what my next adventure will be. I have ideas, but no definitive decisions. For now, I'm going to enjoy my summer and wait for God to unveil where my next journey will take me.

Miss Montana Musings

One week from right now, I'll be getting settled in for pageant week. As I began to make my daunting final to-do list before I start my adventure, I realized I needed to write down a couple of my thoughts. 

When people watch the Miss Montana/Miss America Pageant, all they see are gorgeous girls in pretty dresses competing for a title. They have no clue the amount of blood, sweat, and tears goes into the preparation for that one night; I certainly didn't. When I came home for Christmas break and decided, almost on a whim, "Hey, I should compete in Miss Montana next year! I'll make my platform something about rape culture and help raise awareness!" I had no clue how much work was ahead of me, how many nights, as I told and retold my story from the night I was raped and continued to face my demons, I would fall on my knees crying, asking God if I could really do this, and begging for strength. I didn't realize the amount of time I would need to devote to the pageant, from learning a piano piece, to toning up in the gym, to seeking sponsors, or getting the word out about my platform and what I stand for. If I didn't believe in sharing my message, if I didn't think continuing the dialogue about rape culture was so important, I never would have agreed to put this much time, effort, and energy into this. However, this has already been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I've pushed myself to my limits and came out on top, conquered fears I wasn't even aware I had, and I have already made connections with some truly remarkable ladies, as well as heard from fellow rape survivors who have thanked me for fighting for all of us. 

I want to thank all of my amazing sponsors: 

Doctor Mark Lies,
Trever Crain at Crain Chiropractic,
Steven Rowley, 
Whitney and Kelsi at Shears to You,
Sarah Maki at Lashes by Sarah,
Honda of Great Falls,
Jodi and crew at Dimitri's,
King Ag, 
Andy Taylor,
Kernaghan Inc

You guys are incredible and I couldn't have done this without your support! 

Speaking of support, I have the greatest group of people in my life anyone could hope for. I want to thank my parents for putting up with me and how the pageant has kind of ruled our lives for the last few months, Skyler for supporting me and being privy to almost every breakdown I had in the early months and always coming back with, "you can do this." Hunter for setting up the GoFundMe page to help me pay for everything, Derrick for hooking me up with my photographer, Anthony, Mike, and crew for being there these last couple weeks and taking me on adventures so that I didn't become ridiculously stressed out, Gordon for arranging that fundraiser, and everyone who has messaged me to say good luck and that they believe in me. It may have seemed like a little thing to you, but I have cherished and drawn strength from every kind word or message I've received, whether from an old friend or complete stranger.  No matter what happens on June 11, I want to thank everyone for the outpouring of love and support I've felt, and I thank God for giving me this opportunity. 


While I'm sure this will be me during the interview portion of the pageant: 

And anyone who has ever seen me face-plant on a flat surface knows the high probability of this happening during swimsuit or evening gown: 

I'm excited for next week and all the adventures and friendships it will bring. I've worked long and hard to get here, and I'm ready to see what the Miss Montana pageant has in store for me. At the end of the day: 

Stair-Climbers and Perspectives

     This past week I started a new, rigorous gym routine in preparation for the Miss Montana competition. At the gym last night, I had an interesting experience that served as a gentle reminder of the importance of one of my life goals. 

     Even though most people hate the stair-climber, it's always been one of my favorite machines, but not that evening. When I first climbed on, I felt pretty ambitious and choose a high intensity workout; 10 minutes in, I was dripping sweat and thinking I shouldn't be allowed to make my own life decisions. It was about that time that a mother came up the stairs with her teenage daughter, and a younger, cute daughter who couldn't have been more than 10. While the mother and older daughter hopped on the ellipticals right in front of me, the little girl began bouncing back and forth between an elliptical and one of the stationary bikes. A few more minutes into my self-inflicted torture, my form began to suck. Normally on stair-climbers, I stand up straight and maintain good posture, but due to the intensity, I was bent at my waist, leaning my arms on the rails to take some of the weight off my legs. In a moment of weakness, my inner slacker began to speak up (that clever saboteur), and I found myself thinking, "I could cut my cardio short tonight, after all, I've hit it really hard this week and could probably use an easier day, especially considering I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Just as I lifted my hand to turn the speed down, I glanced over at the little girl and saw her openly watching me. In that moment, I thought of this picture:

     As if a had been slapped, I stood up straight, and thought, "she's why I'm doing this, I'm not quitting." I watched the machine count down with newfound determination. When it finally reached zero, I was completely drenched in sweat and sat down on a mat to stretch my burning legs. Within 60 seconds, that little girl climbed on the machine I had just vacated, causing me to smile and reflect....

     I'm not competing in Miss Montana for myself: I'm choosing to compete because I want the opportunity to help others, especially young girls. Not only do I want with all my heart to help those who have also been sexually assaulted, heal, but I want to be a positive influence in the lives of young girls. In a world where impressionable adolescents are constantly shown the likes of Miley Cyrus and Kylie and Kendall Jenner, I want to show them a different style and way to conduct themselves by channeling Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, and other classy women who have been examples to me of grace, beauty, and what it means to be a lady. 

     Last summer, I had the wonderful privilege of teaching Primary, a Sunday school class for children in my church. I got to teach the 6 and 7 year olds, and over the course of the summer, I fell in love with each one of the special spirits entrusted to me for an hour each Sunday. The very first Sunday I taught, one of my little angels said that I, "looked like a princess, and even have a crown." This is what I was wearing: 

     Because they viewed me as a princess, when I taught them, they always listened intently to what I had to say. How differently things might have been had I dressed in less classy or revealing clothing. The innocent comment that child made had a profound affect on me; for the rest of the summer, whenever I went out, I was extra conscientious about what I wore and how I conducted myself because, in their eyes, I was their princess. Living in a small town, if I ran into them, I wanted to be sure I was dressed and acting in a manner befitting a princess. People rarely realize that someone is always watching, and when that person watching is a child, I believe we have an even greater responsibility to set a positive example for them, to give them something wholesome after which to pattern their thoughts, ideas, and behaviors. Otherwise, how can we wring our hands and wonder what went wrong when they don't turn out well? While the family is central in raising a child, we cannot deny that all of us help shape the people, and especially children, with whom we come in contact. I believe the world needs more examples of people who are refined and have respect for themselves and others, and I would dearly love to become one of those examples to as many people, and especially children, as possible.

"Children are great imitators, so give them something great to imitate."