Confessions of this Gal's Sinful Heart

Last post I wrote about labels and because of my experience in the Miss Teen Pageant I labeled myself "Disqualified".  Unfortunately, that isn't the only label I've owned.  For the last several months there has been a possibility of adopting Lexi's three year old biological sister.  Ever since I knew she was born, I have prayed she would be ours.  Recently that dream has been squelched.  Although it's likely the state will terminate her mother's rights, this baby has a different father than our daughter and the state has decided to allow him to retain his.  So she will remain unadoptable. Before we adopted Lexi I went through a painful process of infertility.  When I received the diagnosis of Poly cystic Ovarian Syndrome, and was unable to conceive I had to put a name to my condition.  I couldn't accept that this was beyond my doing so instead I chose to impose a new and more horrible label "damaged goods"....

Many of us wear labels across our foreheads.   Some are written in washable ink, others are deeply engraved into the skin.   They tell our story.   Some may say, “ ABUSED ”.   Others say “ ABANDONED ”.   No matter what our labels say, in our minds they define us and describe who we believe we are… In the summer of my seventeenth year, I got a letter in the mail.   It went something like this, “Dear Miss Joanne LaSorella, We are happy to inform you that you have nominated you to participate in the Miss Teen Florida Pageant.” I thought, “Me???   Miss Teen Florida?   Is this real?    Maybe some of the jerks at school are playing a cruel “Carrie” joke on me.”   But no, since my town didn’t require a preliminary competition, it was legit.   I never competed in a beauty pageant before.   Even with no experience and little talent I  desperately wanted to participate.   I knew my parents couldn’t afford to send...