You are beautiful.
Listen, you are living life. You’ve got bumps and bruises… cuts… scars… all that jazz. Maybe you feel like you look a little too well-loved. Things are sagging, crinkling…(why in the world do we think laugh lines are so terrible?) …maybe you feel like you’re too soft in some areas (I’m looking at you, mom hips and belly) …maybe you feel like you’re hair never falls just so.
I get it. We live in a world that pushes a certain imagery of women and we partake in the belief that… well… that’s what we should all look like right? But hands with callouses that have hugged me hard, covered in freckles (I know freckles are sun damage… but they are so beautiful and hold stories of past adventure).. .those are beautiful. Bellies, while maybe not as flat as we desire, hold a beauty in their fullness that our children find comfort in when they rest their head.
And bellies house deep, bone-rattling laughter that can fill up a canyon with ringing joy.
Legs and arms, that maybe we think are too wobbly, still hold us up, still carry us through our stories. Hair that is turning color is beautiful. Please stop coloring your hair. Grey and white hair, it is beautiful… and it is a gift. If you have lived a life long enough that your hair changes… what a blessing!
Maybe what I’m getting at is the surface of the world’s standard of beauty is… just that… the surface… shallow. But the story… the depth of your marks, scars… the eye that is a little lazy… the crooked eyebrow… the lumps where you don’t want them… the sideways smile… the story of these things is invaluable and deeply beautiful.
Your well-lived life and the body that proves it are deep and rich.
And really, very beautiful.