Tuesday, August 6, 2013

This is me

We women are so hard on ourselves. We fret over weight and zits and bad hair. I never see my husband scrutinize himself in the mirror. He never pulls on jeans and looks to his reflection to see what they look like. He never plucks stray eyebrow hairs or globs make-up over a zit. He is just him with no frills.

Me? I get so close to the mirror I could crawl into it. I examine every pore and every hair follicle. I primp and fluff and I still dodge cameras. I never seem to be truly content with what I see in the mirror despite looking at that same person for 40 years.

Women worry about weight; whether we are too thin or have a little chub. We think our hair is too thick or too fine; too short or too long. We get highlights and low lights. We extract zits and conceal lines. We tug at our clothes and tie up our hair. It is a wonder we get out of the house at all sometimes.

For all the running I do, I am not overly thin. I have a passion for food. I really love it...a lot. I eat ridiculous amounts. I could probably drop the 10 pounds I complain about if I would just pare down my servings. I really need to do that. But this is me. I am athletic in build. I am built like a board. Seriously. Belts look ridiculous on me because I have no curves; no booty; no shape. It is like wrapping a bow around a two-by-four. 

My hair is fine and thin. I would love at least a few more strands so I can get over my worry that I will go bald someday. Wind, fog, a light summer breeze...all wreck havoc on my hair. I spray and fluff and back-comb and then I step outside and need a hat to cover the mop on my head. But this is me. This is the hair God gave me and God doesn't make mistakes.

At 40 I still have acne. I was once told by a nurse, "Oh, you are so lucky! Your skin is so oily you won't get wrinkles!" Well, yay. I get to be the 80 year old with blemishes. I scrub my skin and tone it and moisturizer it and protect it from the sun. My reward is zits. Thankfully, not near what I experienced as a teenager but enough to want to scream, "Enough!" But this is me. I come with a loud guffaw of a laugh and zits.

My teeth! I thought I had an overbite but the dentist told me it was an "over-jet." What the heck? He referred me to an orthodontist. The referral slip is still pinned to the cork board. Do I really want midlife braces? What if he wants to bust my jaw to reshape my face and wire me back together? Did my parents not know of orthodontics when I was a child? Sigh. This is me. I come with beaver teeth.

I know what I will find when I look in the mirror. It is no shock. I never think, "Well, hello missy! You are looking smashing!" I don't think I am a troll but I wouldn't classify myself as a beauty queen. I am just me. All of us women are just us. It is so hard to accept what we find when we see ourselves in the mirror. We forget that magazines are air-brushed and even our most beautiful friends have their own demons to battle. We forget that we are witty, compassionate, loving, and strong. We look in the mirror and focus on a zit when we should focus on the soul. We pluck the eyebrows when we should look into the eyes. We are all amazingly beautiful creations created by a God who loves us beyond measure and doesn't make mistakes. Embrace who you are inside and out. 

Today I will try to be kinder to myself and I wish the same for all the beautiful women in the world. Now, I have to go brush my beaver teeth.

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