Growing up a young female in America, I was always self-conscious. I know, shocking, right?! For years I wasn’t happy with a single thing about myself. As I grew into my twenties, things started to change. I gained confidence and also realized that I am my own unique kind of beautiful. I also learned that no matter how many times I wished or prayed my eyes would be gorgeously green like my mother’s, they would always stay brown. I stopped comparing myself to celebrities, peers, or other beautiful women I admired. I couldn’t will my looks to change, and I’m definitely not the plastic surgery type.
I finally figured out that wasting my energy being unhappy with my physical attributes was unhealthy, ridiculous and fruitless. No one is perfect and even the seemingly-flawless Mila Kunis has insecurities. If you always focus on the negative and pick apart every little thing you’re unhappy with, you’ll drive yourself insane. Yes, I still have “problem areas” I would like to tone up, but I eat healthier and know I can physically improve myself through exercise, rather than barely eating and making myself miserable.
My point in all this is that you won’t ever be able to change how God made you. God created you in His image. Insulting yourself is finding flaws in a literal masterpiece. He chose your hair texture for you specifically. Yes, you can perm it or straighten it, dye it and cut it, but you’ll always have your hair. You can throw money away striving for your “#goals” but why not just embrace what you’ve got? I’ve always wanted a crazy big 80’s perm, but since they’re awful for hair and usually don’t turn out how you expect, I’ve never done it. I got so frustrated wondering why God gave me straight(ish) hair, but then I finally took a deep breath and thought, “You know, some girls would kill to be able to walk straight out of the shower and their hair look decent.” I can do that, and I’m thankful for it!
As Kelly Clarkson once said, “I wish I had a better metabolism, but someone else probably wishes they could walk into a room and make friends with everyone like I can. You always want what someone else has.” Truer words have never been spoken. Just accept what you have and learn to celebrate it, even though it will take time (and practice).
When people compliment you, accept it! Don’t argue with them or roll your eyes. Take it genuinely and thank them for pointing it out to you. Then go home, look in the mirror, and really see yourself how others do. No one is going to be looking at those tiny dots on your nose, because 1. No one looks that closely at you (seriously, does anyone else fog up the mirror with their breath when they get too into picking at their face? Yeah, me neither). 2. Most people are looking at your eyes, smile, dimples etc., not at the dark circles under your eyes. 3. If anyone DOES point out a negative, they aren’t worth listening to anyways. Why would you yearn to impress someone who is mean and wants to hurt your feelings anyways?
Take comfort in knowing that you’re human, no one is perfect, and perfect doesn’t exist. Make sure you’re happy, not only accept, but also learn to love the things that won’t change. Take pride in the gap in your teeth or the freaky way your collarbones pop out. Be thankful for your thunder thighs that save your phone from dropping in the toilet. Don’t compare yourself to anyone, especially because you never know what they could be going through to have the enviable features. The girl with the insane waistline might have an eating disorder, or the one with bright hazel eyes might get an occasional sty or infection from her colored contacts.
If you don’t know how to start, look at your parents and focus on their features. I am overjoyed at the thought that I look the way I do because God took my dad’s nose and my mom’s porcelain skin and somehow came up with me: a little mutt that looks like them! I sure lucked out too, because my parents are awfully cute.
Admire someone else’s beauty without questioning your own. Because you are beautiful- you just have to see for yourself.
Xo,
Lauren