Thursday, August 8, 2013

Ending the Search for Unattainable Beauty...

Ever since I've gotten pregnant (YAY!!!!!!!!), I've taken a serious look at how I treat myself.  For most of my life, I have felt frumpy, chubby, scarred, and unattractive, and because of these feelings, I haven't always been kind to myself. 

Because I don't want my child to ever struggle with self-acceptance the way I have, to the point of trying to end my life, I'm ending The Search.  Today, I organized all of my nail polishes and makeup, getting rid of some things I've never worn, or don't like.  After counting my 18th lip gloss, I realized that I had a little bit of an addiction.  It seems fun and harmless, and to be honest, it really is fun until I sit down some days later and consider why I've bought yet another lip gloss, nail polish, eyeliner, or perfume. 

The reason behind it, for me, has dark roots.  It's because I'm looking for something transformative.  Something that will make me a better me, a different me... or maybe not me at all.  But no matter how hard I try or how much money I spend, I still see me in my mirror.

And that's got to be okay.

Yes, I am frustrated that I am so overweight.  It sucks to be tired all the time.  But ever since I've felt this little person start to grow, my body has begun to symbolize something else.  By turns, I am intimidated and awed by the fact that there is a human being growing inside of me, a son or daughter of God who has chosen me to be their earthly mother. 

Somehow, this pregnancy is forcing me to accept myself for the way I am, not the way I want to be someday.  Because of it, I can see past the scars.  I can curl up under the covers and sleep like a contented cat, soft and warm.  I can wrap my arms around my stomach and imagine what a comfort it will be for this child to have somewhere soft to snuggle, remembering the last time I hugged my soft, beautiful Mamma.

I still have a long way to go, but I'm amazed at the progress I'm making.  This life is good and sweet, despite the fact that I'm not the weight I want to be.  I will get there someday.  Many of the scars I bear are evidence of a life saved; I'm learning to rejoice in them.  Without them, I wouldn't be here.  And while I see "frumpy," my husband sees "sexy librarian."  There are far worse things to be.