Here I am:
In all my makeup-less glory.
In all my makeup-less glory.
And, goodness, but I sure am pale, am I not?
And, if you could see the very tippy top of my head, you would see where the stubborn greys like to pop up. I never noticed any grey in my hair until my daughter arrived nearly four months early when I was 29 and, well, that experience would give anyone grey hairs, wouldn't it?
My nose isn't big, but it isn't pert either. And, from the side, there's a bump on the bridge. I notice it. A lot.
And there I am again- full-length, from the side (in the turquoise and black). There aren't many pictures of me floating around, so I had to do the best I could here for you, people. You'll get the idea anyhow.
I'm five foot seven. I wear a size 8 or sometimes a 10, depending on the day and the cut of the pants. Since I prefer to hang out on the 6 side of an 8, I feel thick and out of shape at this size but, alas, it is what it is. And I'd be a fool to try to wear a 6 right now.
I am almost all leg. My body and arms are short. My legs are long. My feet are fairly small.
I am that woman who never looks tiny and also never looks big. I almost always wear a "medium" and that's a pretty fair description of me.
I carry what weight I do in my hips and upper thighs. At my skinniest, my thighs are not skinny. At my heaviest, my waist remains pretty small. A pear, I believe they call that? Ah, well.
Here's what I know, beyond all the above:
- This face holds the blue-green eyes that first caught the attention of the man who became my husband.
- This mouth laughs at the antics of my children every day and, when that laugh is for my husband, it makes his day.
- This body has held and nourished and sustained three precious little lives.
- These arms have held and cherished until they ached.
- These legs get me anywhere I need to go.
- Those pesky grey hairs? A sign that I've survived many a year. And they are dealt with easily enough.
It is easy for me to focus on that not-so-taught skin under my chin. Or on my too-soft, not-thin-enough mid-section. Or on my upper legs that have made me want to stomp and cry since I was about twelve years old.
But not only is that not productive and utterly shallow, it's also not the whole truth.
The truth is that I know I've been blessed with good genes that pretty much allow me to eat anything and not exercise and still never climb above a "healthy weight." The truth is that I like the color of my eyes and the length of my lashes. I like my thick hair and having really long legs.
And you know what? It's not arrogant to like a few things about yourself. In fact, I'd say it's healthy. And I would also go so far as to say that having a little confidence in yourself will be more attractive to others than constantly being self-deprecating.
I'm going to celebrate having teal eyes and pretty hands and call it a day. I'm resolved to be happy with what God gave me!
How about you? What makes you happy about your appearance? I'd LOVE to hear about it!