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Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Outward Beauty

I've been doing a lot of thinking about outward beauty. Maybe I'm the only one; but I hate talking to another female when she's THISCLOSE to my face. I even get uncomfortable when it's not thatclose but still in very close proximity. I find myself trying to focus on the conversation as I wonder if she's noticed how bushy my eyebrows are, my teeth stains, how big my pores are or how overall my complexion is not very pretty. I can't help but notice how perfectly white her teeth are, her smooth skin and should I even notice how there probably isn't even a roll on her body?! Talking to another of my "kind" sometimes makes me very small, very lost...does this even make sense to you?
Yet as I feel inferior I find myself comparing myself to others that I think are "below" me. "At least I'm not that fat"..."Oh my word, did you see her teeth?!" My only explanation is that I'm trying to build myself back up for all the security I lost when I was busy comparing myself to Miss America.
I'm discovering that this is an age old battle...I still remember when I was 12 my mom let me start wearing foundation as teenage acne had set in. It was a Sunday and I was feeling particularly ugly as those ugly pimples reared themselves. I pulled out my Cover Girl foundation in the shade of nude, one layer; two layers and a few more layers later I finally felt as if my pimples were sufficiently hid. We arrived to church...my mom had yet to see me as she had gone to church early and I managed to get to my Sunday school class without spotting her. But, apparently my Sunday school teacher noticed my raccoon eyes and didn't think it was a good look for me and my mom was soon dragging me to the bathroom to start washing off the layers. The funny thing about it all was that I didn't even notice how bad I looked with half a bottle of foundation on my face-I just noticed how pathetic I looked bearing pimples on my face and what the other girls were going to think of me having to get a makeup lesson at church! I was only 12...
At 16, I worked at Sears and had a customer tell me I was fat and ugly. It bothered me; but what bothered me most was when I shared the event with a friend she replied, "you are not fat!" Not a word was mentioned about the word ugly...it was bad enough when a complete stranger had that thought;but my friend who knew me not for only what I was but for who I was as well. Yeah, it didn't really matter what my heart looked like at that moment did it?
I'm now 30...I've learned these pimples are still rearing their ugly heads, I've got more fat rolls than I did when I was 16 and those struggles with my outer beauty are still there. I still have those friends that are mommies as well who make it openly clear that they are the most beautiful in our circle of friends. Ouch. I've even had a friend say to me that I'm not the most beautiful outwardly; but I have a beautiful heart. At least, they made mention of my heart, right? I say that with a sarcastic smile; but to be honest it hurt my heart A LOT. There are still the clicks, like in highschool...the pretty girls and the average girls. It's a rare treat to be average and be a part of the pretty girls.
I look around and notice that I'm a part of a lot of beautiful things in this life! I have a little boy who has the most beautiful blue eyes and the cutest chin...I have a marriage...a family...friends. So, I find myself hiding behind that beauty ashamed that I can't be out in the front line, unashamed of how I will look in front of the camera..unashamed of my smile. In the long run, I'm not only hurting myself I'm hurting those around me. Most of all I realize that I'm hurting the One who allowed the Bible verse to be penned about being fearfully and wonderfully made. What does my struggle with my "lack of beauty" do to Him? I tell people all the time that my God makes no mistakes; but I then turn around and complain about how ugly I look. Interesting. My God makes no mistakes; but I destroy a picture of myself because I can't stand to look at it as it shows every blaring blemish there ever was on my face. I don't really know what God saw in me before He even started to form me; but He saw something worth making. By letting this insecurity and doubt get in the way, am I really letting myself live up to the worth God has invested in me?

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