Perception

When I look in the mirror I see a shrinking me.  I feel so accomplished and amazing.  Then I look at each lump and bump and think, "Wow girl!  You have a long way to go!"  But I look in the mirror again and I don't see the fat blob of a person I used to be.  I see a woman who is setting goals and reaching them.  I see a woman who has fallen down and picked herself back up to keep going.  This woman in the mirror is masterpiece full of imperfections that are slowly being refined and overcome.  I am beautiful.

I have never been a person who felt especially pretty.  I can really only remember one moment in my life that I felt completely beautiful.  It was on my wedding day when my husband saw me for the first time in my wedding gown.  The look on his face was unmistakable.  I knew in that moment that he only had eyes for me.  Now I was wearing the most expensive dress I have ever owned, and my hair and make up were done just right, but I was still the same me I am every other day.  Why did I feel so beautiful?  It was my perspective.



With this thought in mind I would like to share a few thoughts of my own.  I was always the fat kid at school.  I remember being taunted by the other children for my size.  I even remember the first doctors appointment where my mother was told to limit my eating.  I was in first or second grade.  I didn't know a lot of things, but I knew the doctor told my mom I needed to lose weight.  Now I won't say the doctor was in the wrong in helping my mom devise a plan to help me be healthy.  Perhaps the approach could have been improved.  Maybe I should have not been present for the conversation.  Maybe I was too sensitive.  I don't believe that was the first time I had been made aware of my size.  I am sure I knew, but I do believe that was the first time I thought I had a problem.  That was the first time I felt not good enough. So I began my first modified eating plan.  All I can remember were half sandwiches at lunch instead of whole.  I felt deprived and confused.  Everyone else could have a whole sandwich.  Why did I have to be different?

I was never incredibly athletic.  I could shoot hoops and make baskets.  I could hit a ball with a bat, and I could kick the ball in kickball.  I jumped a mean rope though!  My younger sister was the tall skinny one.  I always felt like the expectation was for her to be the athletic one.  I wasn't that tall, or lean, so I didn't feel any great expectation.  I did enjoy a more sedentary lifestyle, but was always encouraged to play outside.  I enjoyed family bike rides, and rode my bike all over to friends homes and school.  I guess my perception as a child was that I was the fat kid.  The one always picked last for a team, and always considered the weakest link.  So I lived up to what I perceived everyone else thought of me.

When my first niece was born I wanted her to never question if she was good enough.  I called her princess, and told her she was beautiful.  When my second niece was born I saw the need even greater for her.  She had someone in her life that called her names and put her down constantly.  I tried to always let her know just how special she was.  I don't know if that made any impact to either of my beautiful nieces, but I always tried to let them know just how special they are.  When my nephews came along I realized they needed the same reassurances.  They are talented and energetic young men who have such a love of life.  I can see the impact of the negative influence in their lives.  These wonderful children don't believe you when you tell them the are wonderful.  I bet they don't realize that people can see it in their eyes, but it is there.  You are more than what you perceive yourself to be.  Do not limit yourselves!

So what is beauty?  Is it having a perfect body and perfect skin and hair?  Is it having perfectly toned muscles?  Or is it something much deeper?  I am not beautiful according to those standards.  I don't have to feel ugly though.  Beauty comes from overcoming obstacles when all hope is lost.  Beauty is a smile or a handshake given without malice or judgement.  Beauty comes from sharing our talents with those around us whether that means being a good friend or playing the violin for a small audience.  Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes.  Growing up there was a very kind older man in my church who would come up to the girls in my circle of friends and take the time to shake our hands, look us in the eyes, and call us princess.  When I go home and see him, he still takes the time to come up to me and shake my hand and ask how his princess is.  That is beautiful.

I guess the greatest reason that I know that being beautiful is so much more than looks comes from my faith.  
I know where I come from.  I am a daughter of God.  With this comes great blessings and great responsibility.


I know that I do not walk alone.  I know that I can correct my course and start fresh.


And most importantly the reason I am the woman I am is because...