Here goes:
Wondering about honesty here... I used to be a woman who avoided mirrors except to put on the war paint that made venturing into the day a possibility. And when I looked, I never looked below the neck. Yep, I'm one of those girls who was pelted daily with that awful sentence, " You have such a pretty face..."
Of course, I always filled in the other part of the statement. The unspoken but understood part that was ..."if only you weren't so fat." Being fat colored my entire life with drab and gloom and hopelessness. I was not a girl who went on a diet and was successful. Instead I was the girl who lived her life on an eternal diet. Ask my friends. They'd tell you.
A few years ago, I realized that whatever I look like, whatever the number on the scale or the dress label, is pretty darn wonderful. Regardless of the opinion of others who continue to harshly judge the appearances of others, I refuse to participate. I have strength and health and practice daily telling myself how lovely I am.
Wow. That was uncomfortably honest. And I suppose that's the point of the exercise. The operative word in the last sentence is practice. Some days it feels painfully untrue. But I bet my brother, The Ironman, has days when he doesn't feel at the top of his game. And that hasn't stopped his daily habit of practice. So I keep on practicing, too.
Beautiful beautiful post! I loved every word! Thankyou for your honesty and rawness... it was medicine to my soul.
ReplyDeleteHugs.