Loving Yourself & Saying It Aloud
Loving Yourself & Saying It Aloud
I’ve started added a disclosure to my more personal posts. My words are never to be taken as a “me v. you” or an “us v. them” mentality. These pages are full of a broken hearted, Jesus loving girl who wants to be a citizen of the world, without having to leave her house. If you are offended by anything contained herein, please know, that was not my intent.
This online place is my couch, if you do not approve of the furnishings, go. I do not hold enough anger or resentment to allow it to taint me any longer. But if you are pissed, struggling, over flowing with joy, searching for meaning, learning to cook, screaming at your kids while crying over their growth charts, welcome home. Believe me when I tell you that you are most welcome here. Like they say at Disney World, Welcome Home.
A few weeks ago, I asked a photographer friend of mine at Double J Photography to take some head shots for me. I needed to update the pics on my social media and my blog because it had bee years, but it still felt weird. As a grown ass woman, asking another grownup “Hey, will you follow me around and take some pictures?” Just odd. Right?
If you know me in real life or follow me on Instagram, you are probably very aware that I have been doing crazy things to my hair for awhile. It was purple, then green/teal/purple and then it was time to try blue. Just in time for my photography appointment.
I really cannot explain my experimentation with my hair. Someone asked me a few weeks ago “Does it mean anything?” And all I could come up with was “I just love it.” As the oldest of three kids, I suppose that being OCD and always striving to make something of myself meant I didn’t have a whole lot of fun growing up. My little sister often reminded me that I was too young to be acting so old.
When I took the last year off from practicing law, I made a list of what I wanted to do. Purple hair was on the list and it just progressed. What can I say? I had to turn 36 before I dyed my hair and pierced my nose. If this is a mid-life crisis, it is early, but I’m going with it.
My photog friend, Jennifer is amazing and the pics were more than lovely. When I got them back, I stared hard at the girl in those pics. She looked amazing. And yet, as the thought crossed my mind, I really found myself saying out loud “Sister, you look good.”
I immediately chastised myself. “You cannot say things like that about yourself. You are a mother for crying out loud.”
The Girl In These Pics
The girl in these pics, well she is lacking. In so many ways other than the physical. She was not as skinny as she should be. The lines around her eyes are quite deep. Her laugh lines are rivers and there’s a little too much in the back of those black jeans.
The girl in these photos loses her patience All. The. Damn. Time. She cusses too much. Her laugh is much too loud for most social situations. And most of the time she is grappling against hell and herself to figure her effing life out. And who in the world told her she should get a nose ring at 37?
This girl has buried a brother, a father and her second mother within months of one another. Tragedy is the badge of courage that marks her shoulder., She has repeated Isaiah 46:4 more times that she can count. So much so that it now is tatted on her body and her heart.
Because God was the only one she believed when He said “I have made you. I will carry you. I will sustain you and I WILL rescue you.” This girl holds tight the redeeming nature of being rescued.
This girl has released the idea of ever birthing her own children. She has looked depression in the eye and whispered “you cannot take me yet, you son of a bitch.” She has tasted years of joy and more than a fair share of bitterness.
What does this girl need? To tell herself she is worth it. So that’s what I did. I gave the girl in these pics the self love she needed and I said it aloud. Again.
Learning Self Love
Why do we as women wait so long to fall in love with ourselves? We spend years, days and commercials teaching self love to our children. We tell them they are precious, unique, worthy of all the good that we have in our lives.
We compliment our girlfriends, our sisters, our spouses and the lady on the subway with the fabulous handbag. Yet, at the end of the day, we stare a mirror and count faults.
When did we stop seeing ourselves as the princesses in the fairytales we read?
I am not saying that we always need a prince. Most of us can slay our own dragons, but we stop short of saying “I’m having a great hair day” or “I love the way this skirt/shoes/etc does for my figure.” When do we as women stop believing that all of us needs to be celebrated…by us?
Maybe it is because we worry that we will be judged even further than we already are. The latest issue of any grocery store magazine or movie will remind you your butt does not look like it did 20 years ago. But I think it is deeper, harsher than that. We doubt because we forget that we are loved. We lower our expectations and forget to fight for ourselves. Even if that fight is with ourselves.
Yes, the girl in these pics needs to fix a lot of things, but if I forget to tell her how worthy she is, why do I expect anyone else to fill in those gaps? How can I teach my daughter to love who she is unless she see me embracing me as I am?
If you have not heard that you are beautiful and worth it today, let this be your reminder. But more importantly that me telling you, go find your own girl in the mirror and tell her yourself. She will thank you!