Yep. Starting a blog post with a selfie. Sounds about right. This is something that has been floating around in my mind for some time and I have tried giving it words. I am still not sure I can, but if you know me, you know I sure am going to try to give it all the words.
I came across that the other day while scrolling Pinterest. I have often found myself possibly not fitting into a perfect box. Trying to figure out who you are and where you fit in the world is an odd thing. Trying to accept yourself is a difficult task. And loving yourself, all parts of you, is the hardest. As I read this I thought, yes! What is beautiful anyway? I have never really been the girl that would be described as such. And no, that is not me putting myself down. It has just never really been a descriptor for me. The other part of that is beautiful is not necessarily something I would say about myself either. I certainly have days, more often than not lately, where I feel great about myself and finally feel comfortable in my own skin. But I still wouldn't look at myself, wink, and say, "Hey, beautiful." Even typing that makes me laugh.
Then there's this. Inevitably on the days that I am not feeling so great, comparison happens. The if only......I was a little thinner. I had bigger boobs. My nose wasn't so big. My ass looked like that chicks. And I know that I look good for my age. And I take care of myself. But good lord. Some days it feels like we are bombarded with ways on how to be more attractive. Y'all? If you think a single girl in her 40's with four kids is not at least somewhat concerned with her attractiveness level.....welll let's have a chat over coffee. I don't want to be concerned with it. But I don't want to live my next however many years completely alone either.
Which brings me to this. I'm a little exhausted most days. I have spent some time thinking about the last few years and.....wow. So much. So very much. Moved. Went back to work. Went back to school. Lost my mom. Lost my grandpa. Lost a couple uncles. (There were two years where I swear someone was dying every other month. No joke.) Dad had a massive heart attack. I broke my ankle. I got divorced. I am not sure what the stress is for any one of those events, but I have a feeling that experiencing all of them in a four year time span could really do a number on a person.
So I may not be in perfect shape. I may need to lose a few more pounds. I may have a mom belly that would scare most people. I may not be all together all the time. I may lose my temper. I may lose my mind. I may talk too much. I may be pushy. I may be intimidating. I may be too honest. I may be annoying.
But maybe, just maybe, I am my own version of beautiful.
Comments