Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

When I was a child I used to dream that one day I would grow up and be beautiful. I often felt like the ugliest child in my class. I was often told how odd I was and I tended to be a tomboy. I liked hiking in the woods and catching frogs. I enjoyed playing soccer. But I will never forget that moment at church camp where a boy asked me, “Are you a girl or a boy?” He was serious. And it stung.

When I reached highschool I carried a lot of that baggage with me. I desperately wanted to fit in and look like the other girls. Some of the hairstyles I tried make me cringe to this day. But the one thing I never could manage was looking thin. I remember drinking slimfast shakes for lunch and doing low impact aerobics in a mad attempt to be thin and “beautiful.” I remember losing 20 pounds and feeling great, only to gain it back within a few months and feel horrible about myself. It still makes me sick that I was more worried about what I looked like than learning.

I went to Homecoming my Sophmore year with my friends and dressed up in a beautiful dress my mother picked out for me at Dilliards. I felt so special in that black dress. I liked it because it hid my lumpy belly and thighs and was covered with ruffles. It was the perfect dancing dress because I could twirl around and all the ruffles would flow out around me. For that one night I felt special.

Since I have grown up I have learned that my self worth does not come from what I look like. My children love me whether I have makeup on or not. Which is a great thing because I really only wear it to work. My husband loves me even when I pull my hair back in a ponytail and lounge around in decades old jammies. Real love looks at the heart, not at the dress size.

If there is one thing I could teach women today it would be “Stop worrying over what you look like and just be who you are.” But this is easier said than done when marketing companies are so focussed on diminishing our self worth in order to sell us a product we “need” to look “beautiful.”

A friend told me recently that she loves my beautiful heart. It is probably the best compliment I have received in years. No matter what I look like on the outside, as long as my heart is beautiful, that’s all that matters to me. My body is aging. Pieces of me sag and I am starting to see silver sprinkled throughout my hair. But I am learning to love the worry lines on my face. They give me character. They tell a story I don’t want to destroy with cosmetic surgery.

When I first set out to get healthy I knew I wanted to lose weight. But I also knew I needed to address the heart issues that had plagued me for years. I felt worthless, inadequate and weak. So much of this had to do with my size. How I wish I could go back and tell myself that no matter what size I was, I was still the same person inside. Skin deep beauty is no beauty at all.

I will never look like a model. I will never wear a size 6 dress. I will probably always have chunky thighs. And I’m okay with all those things. My body is a temporary dwelling place. And while I do feel it is important to take care of it, my whole self worth should not be determined by what it looks like at any given moment. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, rather, let everyone see my beautiful heart.

I am learning to love myself and that is one of the most challenging projects I have ever undertaken. But it is well worth the journey.

I don’t know why I saved that dress from highschool but I did. For some reason I couldn’t bear to part with it. I recently pulled it out and dusted it off. Then I made my 15 year old son, who is a Sophmore in highschool, take my picture in it. It fits a little differently but it fit nonetheless. As I stood and posed I thought, this is just a dress, nothing more, nothing less. For that matter, I feel just as good in my workout clothes. It reminded me that inside I am not who I was back then. And while I am extremely proud of fitting back into it, I know my current size does not define who I am. But what really stuns me is this. I am the same size I was my Sophmore year in highschool. Back then I thought I was the fattest and ugliest girl alive. But today, at that same size, I know I am just as beautiful as I was back then. And that is something to be pround of.