When someone takes a picture of me that I truly like, I say it out loud. Maybe several times. When I look in the mirror and smile because my makeup and hair just WORK that day? Right on. When I save that new outfit I bought to wear on a day that people will see me in it that's allowed. I have to let myself have these little moments, because I get to love myself... for a long time I didn't even used to like myself very much.
It gets thrown in your face that you're different when you are. I was bullied for a long time by thin girls because I didn't get to participate in clothes swaps or wear a bikini at the pool. Boys made lots of rude comments about my undesirability. I've always been big. That's just the facts. I was overweight even as a child and I have never been what anybody would consider to be skinny. I thought for a very long time that it meant I wasn't beautiful, either. It's easy to let other peoples' perceptions of you define how you see yourself (especially when they are constantly mean about it), but that doesn't mean it's right. It doesn't mean that they are right. Different size does not equal different worth.
Every person has high highs and low lows, and my lows were very, very low. I couldn't even accept the tiniest compliment. Some people thought it was false humility, but it truly was just because I couldn't agree with what was being said. Compliments felt sarcastic because there was no way anybody could think that I actually had pretty eyes or an infectious smile. They must have been mocking me, right?
It went on like this for years. It got to a point that I gave into insane dieting and other scarily unhealthy habits. During my second semester of college I lost 45 pounds in a little over 4 weeks. At the time I thought it was something to be proud of, but now I know for sure it was a destructive, terrifying time. Dropping pounds that quickly is DANGEROUS, y'all. But still, losing weight became a crazy obsession. I was convinced that only skinny people get husbands, good jobs, and happy lives. Nobody ever plans to spiral out of control, but down I spiraled anyways. I tried to quick fix my way into a new body and ended up depressed, disconnected, and extremely ill.
I had a migraine for five days and I can hardly even remember it because I was sleeping about 20 hours out of each of those days. I had stopped eating. I called a friend in my desperation and asked her to drive me to the clinic on campus. As I sat in the doctor's office, the IV slowly dripped much-needed nutrients back into my body. I decided in that moment that this destruction wasn't worth it. Becoming skinnier wasn't making me more beautiful at all. Being thinner wasn't a factor of my worth--not in the slightest.
Around the time I left college I really starting seeking the Lord and making Him the absolute priority of my life. Slowly but surely, healing came. Truth came.
I have always been beautiful, and being fat or skinny didn't even have a place in the matter.
There it was. Indescribable relief. Uncontainable joy.
Even now as I sit here and type this out, quiet tears drip down my face for the wasted years of disbelief in the beauty of who I am. For far too long I was concerned with what other people thought or said instead of what I know to be true about the way God sees me. A God who surely does not make mistakes created me on purpose for a purpose. I'm loved and I can't earn more of it because that number on the scale is smaller.
Beauty isn't even about what my waistline looks like. Yours, either. We have to stop letting that even be a part of the equation, people. Otherwise how are we ever going to be happy?
A beautiful smile is one that is heartfelt, not just one with straight teeth. You can be a size zero or a size 16 your whole life, but it's your kindness, humor, and willingness to just be yourself that will always be what people remember most about you. That little freckle you hate is somebody's favorite thing about your face. Your laugh that you stifle because you think it isn't ladylike might be the one thing that changes the direction somebody's day is going. Be who you are, for goodness' sake. God didn't make you a certain way so you could try and be more like anyone else, or even just more pleasing to everyone else.
I'm on my way, you guys, but I haven't made it. I still have bad days when I get down on myself, sure. But that nonsense can't compete with the truth of who I am in God. NO WAY. Sadness is so fleeting in the presence of God. Depression does not stand a chance. Truth wins out. I'm fearful and wonderful and nothing's gonna ever change that.
So when that picture of me gets posted by a friend and I exclaim aloud, "Aww I look so cute!", please know that my own words are literally healing me. It's not because I think I'm a supermodel. Ha! Definitely not that... It's because I am looking at a picture of a genuinely happy person. A healing, crazy, funny, loud, singing, dancing, big, emotional, imperfect person in progress. I'm worthy. I remind myself as much as I need to because my God reminds me as much as I need it. I finally believe in what I'm saying. I am confident in myself because I am confident in the God who made me the way HE wanted to. From my head to my toes, I love myself. Heck, I even like myself. I like to think that's pretty beautiful.
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