Yesterday I saw a picture taken of myself and was grossed out. I got really depressed about it. I shared the pic with my best friend who looked at it and said, "You're beautiful."
I rolled my eyes. She wasn't lying to me. I could see the image. Fat, obese…society has lots of words for it and I was all of them. She repeated, “You’re beautiful.”
Of course, I looked at her like she’d gone batshit crazy. “Look! My arms! My thighs! My arm is as big as my head! It’s gross!”
She shook her head. “You’re beautiful. You’re a good mom. A good friend. You help others everyday and sometimes that means your last priority is you. If you’re more concerned with the difference you make in the world, in the people you love, than how you look, how can you not see what I do? You’re beautiful.”
I might have paraphrased her but almost exactly that. I stewed on her words. Yeah, she has a point. One I thought I should share because I’m not the only one who forgets it. The world might think my size isn’t quite right. Probably, some of you have been trained to look at yourself in the mirror and gauge your self worth based on the image reflected back at you. You probably get as disgusted as I do with that image you see sometimes.
But if you’re like me and you spend your days worrying about everyone else and don’t get around to worrying about your hair, your size, your nails, your dead sexiness…Is there anyone on the face of this planet that can hold a candle to your beauty?
You’re beautiful. I’m proud to know you. I should tell you that more often.