When Does It End?

Last week as I sat around a table with a bunch of wonderful ladies the conversation took a turn that I hadn't expected.  The body bashing began, those beautiful women who sat around the table so full of laughter and life listed off their parts that they'd like to change.  Phrases like 'lifestyle lift', 'boob job', and 'plastic surgery' started floating around.  I started to wonder when does it end?  When do we quit feeling like we have to be perfectly shaped?  Why can't we just love ourselves for who we are and how we've gotten there?  I'm not saying I've got it figured out by any means.  It's hard to love your body through different seasons of life--teenager, pregnancy, postpartum, and menopause.

I used to think that my mom was crazy for never dying her hair.  Why would she want to look her age when she's got little kids in the house?  Why not wear a touch of makeup and take a few years off?  I'm starting to get it though.  As I've watched hairs on my own head turn from brown to white I've pondered coloring my hair.  One day sitting in church I looked out at the sea of ladies heads before me, I realized that almost everyone had these perfect highlights and colored hair.  It dawned on me that no hair stylist could ever create as many nuances of color in my hair as time and living could.  Thankfully I have a spouse who loves me just the way I am and when asked his opinion on whether or not to color my hair he told me no.  He also looks at me like I've come from an alien planet when I wear makeup and asks why I'm wearing it.  Blessed am I.

I remember a few years ago when Jamie Lee Curtis did an expose for a magazine.  The only caveat?  Absolutely no touchups.  Here's a picture in case you didn't see it.  http://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-style/pictures/unretouched-celebs-2010204/7761  She quickly became my hero, and the first step on my way back to real beauty.

The dove beauty campaign ads strike a deep chord with me as well.

What really shattered my perception of my body was reading this book--http://www.amazon.com/Hungry-Appetite-Ambition-Ultimate-Embrace/dp/B005GNKEWA/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1379985307&sr=8-2&keywords=hungry.  It's a page turner story of a girl who gets recruited into the modeling industry, battles an eating disorder to obtain the perfect body, finally decides she's had enough and finds her way back to health.  The pictures of her 'perfect' self were shocking.  She looks void of life and energy.  The pictures of her once she had gained some weight and learned to love her body were stunning.  So vivacious, alive, and the same size as me.  I stared long and hard at her, unable to believe my eyes.  This lady is a model, my size, and is a model?!  My beauty warped brain could not comprehend that information at first.  As I kept looking I tried envisioning my face instead of hers.  It was quite possibly one of the first times that I could see myself as 'stunning' with the ability to turn heads.  It made me realize that maybe I was beautiful too.

It is wonderful that time can help heal wounds.  I was trying on my old jeans not to long ago curious if my hips had slimmed down yet.  They haven't, and I don't know if they ever will.  But when I found my skinny jeans and held them up my jaw went slack.  I held them up and couldn't believe that I used to wear them.  And that when I wore them I thought I was fat and undesirable.  How sad my viewpoint was not so long ago!  I am happy to be able to truthfully say that I am more comfortable in my own skin now (two sizes larger than those jeans) than I ever was then.

I don't know all the answers but I can share what I've found on my beauty journey.  Accepting compliments on my looks has been tough, but probably the biggest factor.  I choose to believe that when my mom, mom in law, sister, best friends, mom friends, husband, and children say I look pretty I must look pretty.  As much as I love a good conspiracy theory, it seems rather far fetched that so many people would be out there lying to me and saying I look good, right?

My second tip is this--find an amazing photographer and do a session together.  Phil took my maternity pictures while pregnant with Miles.  There was one picture that I was in awe.  That lady was me.  That beautiful, breath taking beauty, was me.  To see yourself through some one else's eyes will do you more good than you could ever know.

I would love to see more women join me and walk on this path to real beauty.  Not what's airbrushed in magazine, or fabricated on tv.  Real women loving themselves through the daily grind, and loving others to that same spot.

I'm curious to see where I am in a few more years.  What will I think of myself?  What will my self talk be like?  Perhaps I'll be beautiful in my own mind as much as I am in others'.  For now I'm pretty, and that's good enough for me.