About this time last year, I was sitting poolside at a Disney World resort watching my daughter splash in the water. I was wearing a one piece full-coverage, tummy-slimming bathing suit and a sarong wrapped around my hips. Even with all of that, I felt exposed and self-conscious. My cheeks were puffy. My arms were flabby. My, ahem, chest was saggy. My thighs were covered in cellulite. I sat there utterly frustrated with myself. Over the course of the past eight years, I had lost 100 pounds, run a half marathon, began training for a full marathon, had a baby, gained 40 pounds, lost 20 pounds or so, had ANOTHER baby (19 months after the previous one!), gained ANOTHER 40 pounds and had most recently lost about 50 pounds. The number on the scale wasn't terrible, but my self-esteem was quite low. And then I looked up. I looked past my flabby arms. I looked past my jiggly thighs. I looked past my innocently gorgeous seven-year-old. And I saw...beauty.
Women are beautiful. They are beautiful in their confidence and in their lack thereof. As I sat there, I watched women with the "perfect" bodies look around shyly before disrobing. Then I watched others whom society would deem "undesirable" strut with the utmost confidence to the pool. I saw mothers with stretch marks try to hide their arms, legs and tummies before getting in the pool. And I saw grandmothers in nearly all of their glory! I saw women stretched by childbearing, disfigured by cancer, covered in tattoos, sagging from desperate attempts to lose weight and in all shapes and shades. However, what I saw more than anything else was beauty.
After returning home from that trip, I experienced several life-changing events. Not the least of which was a thyroid tumor scare that led to my being put on several different medications to regulate my thyroid and hormone production. As a result of the medicine and the additional stressors in my life, I began losing the last bit of weight that had plagued me for the past year. But it wasn't until I started to free myself from negative thoughts, doubts and insecurities and surrounded myself with people and things that made me FEEL beautiful, did I truly experience a rise in my self-esteem and self-worth. I began to feel...beautiful. It has nothing to do with the numbers on the scale or the tags in my clothes. I feel beautiful because for the first time in a very long time I fell in love with myself. My true self.
I don't believe that old saying "beauty is only skin deep." Not entirely. Because I think beauty shines from within. If you love yourself, your authentic self, beauty will emanate from your very pores. So I urge you to look deep down inside of yourself. Find that part of you that you love. Let it radiate. And then go out there and strut your stuff, mama. Because YOU are beautiful.
