Beauty & Ugly Redefined: Part 2

What is Beautiful?

Picture this: Living your teen years hiding your body behind baggy clothing. Then, as soon as you turned 18, meeting the man who you’d fall in love with. Make a life with. Grow up with. Picture going from insecure loner to lover that fast. That young.

In some ways, it was a confidence boost that I needed to keep going on my wellness journey. In some ways, it arrested my exploration of myself, my body, and my worth. I had a partner. Somebody loved me. I didn’t need to look too deeply into how much I loved myself. I could just keep going. Keep striving.

That bubble lasted a long time. All the way into my 30s. I built a career. We built a life. I decided I knew who I was, what I wanted, how things should be.

But bubbles, man. You know how they do.

The bubble was beginning to quiver on the afternoon I went to see a Broadway play with two then-friends. (More about then-friends in another post.) The play we saw was called Three Tall Women. It’s the story of a woman’s life in three stages of it. At one point, she says (paraphrased):

“I remember when I first realized I was tall and pretty.”

Post-show, we went for a whiskey to unpack the play. One friend asked, “When did you realize you were tall and pretty?”

Me: “I don’t identify with either of those statements.”

I smirked as I said it, and they rolled their eyes at me. But it wasn’t a joke, not really. They were both about 5’9”, naturally blonde women. I’m 5’4 at best, have been taming my eyebrows since I was 14, and have never walked through life as a pretty girl. (Read the first installment of this thread for context.)

Both of those friends had dealt with their own share of insecurity, trauma, and triumph. But they knew they were tall and pretty by that point in their lives. Despite having been in a committed, supportive relationship my entire adulthood, I realized I did not know those things about me.

Let’s stop here and define some concepts. Pretty can be the face you’re born with, but I hope we all know that pretty is so, so much more than a face. A colleague once said, “You must be two of three things: pretty, kind, and intelligent. You can get away with not being all three, but you can’t be just one and expect to go far.”

So when we talk about beauty and ugly, I want it clear that we’re talking about how you carry yourself. The beauty you see in yourself. The pretty you radiate. Not how silky your hair is or the shape of your nose.

I went home that afternoon thinking about that comment. Why didn’t I know I was pretty? Why was I legendary for my resting b**ch face instead of the passion I carried? Why had I covered up my heart with force and armor?

Who the hell was I, anyway?

It wasn’t the pin that burst the bubble. Not at all. More like another Jenga log pulled from the tower. But that was the first time I really wondered why I didn’t see myself as beautiful. And if I ever really could. My ex-husband never, ever made me doubt that he thought I was beautiful. I just never internalized it about myself. This was a me problem, and suddenly I needed to solve it.

That would take a soul journey and a lot of pain as we dismantled our life, and I found the rhythm of my own heart.

Your Turn

If I tell you you’re pretty, what do you say?

In my wellness blog, I posted a challenge: Spend 1 full minute gazing at yourself in the mirror every day this week. Cool if it's just your face. Even better if it's your whole freaking body. 

Will you do it? Can you look at yourself and appreciate the beauty there? Can you stop the criticism and critique of every little flaw or errant hair? Can you appreciate your beautiful body for 1 minute every day??

I dare you. ;)