I love big cities. Before I met Husband, I had aspirations to move to New York City and lead a Carrie Bradshaw-esque lifestyle. (Subtract the promiscuity, add a budget.) Now that I live in California, I try to visit Los Angeles once a month, and while many of you may groan inwardly at the thought of traffic and ostentatious displays of wealth (all of which are there), I find that the energy surrounding the city makes up for any and all of its flaws.
So, it seems likely that I would find a city like Las Vegas equally energizing, right? Wrong! After 48 hours in the city, I found myself disturbed by the overt debauchery that oozes from the casinos, streets and sewers. Don’t get me wrong, Husband and I had a fabulous time–with one another–but Vegas is everything that’s wrong with America.
Possibly the most upsetting part of the entire city, however, wasn’t the drinking, the sex or the gambling (I’ll be honest, I played a few slots and some blackjack), but the women–and I don’t mean the ones you pay for. I mean the female tourists. The girls in town for a bachelorette party. The women who felt they deserved a break from their husbands and children, or the ones who either had no husband–or no scruples. (Can you say Cougar alert?)
I thought about these women all weekend (hard to ignore when they are so in your face) and what connected them to one another–other than their tight dresses and fake boobs. And I think it all goes back to what I said in an earlier post. At the end of the day, we all just want to be heard. Or, in this case, noticed.
And while I would strongly encourage these women to use their brains, not their bodies to get attention, I certainly understand the need to feel validated.
I read a great post from my new favorite blogger and social media mogul, Gwen Bell, earlier today. (Seriously guys, you MUST check her out. ) She compared being recognized as a leader on the world wide web to being nominated for Homecoming court in High School. Why? Because both “validate your existence in a world where appearances matter.”
And isn’t feeling “good enough” what everyone longs for, whether you’re the one with your butt hanging out of the bottom of your dress (please tell me you’re not) or someone like me trying to find your voice online? Bell ends her post by stating that “the only proof you need that you exist (is) your own awareness of that fact.”
I’d like to take that statement one step further and say that your own awareness of your existence coupled with the knowledge that you were created by God for a purpose (other than garnering free drinks from sleezy males) is all you need to navigate life. Whatever your goal is in life, ask yourself: What am I looking to for validation?
If it’s anything other than the Lord and your inner character, you might want to do some reevaluating.