i have toes that curl up at the ends, like elf feet. my shoes always end up misshapen because of this. i am pale as pale can be, burning to a crisp lobster red, flakingly peeling, then going right back to pasty potato white.
recently, my mom and my aunt ginny were exchanging quips on things they'd like to change. things like weight, chins, eyes, etc. and i felt so outraged on their behalf! how could they not see themselves how i, and i'm sure all of their friends, see them?
my aunt ginny, who's fiery hair matches her fiery determination? who supported herself and her daughter, my best friend, as a single parent, working long hours as a nurse? as an oncology nurse, one of the best in her field, who is there for patients when all hope is gone? she is someone i can count on for just about anything. i can safely say if i ever got arrested at a protest, she would either come bail me out or be sitting next to me saying, "woo, that was fun!" she is warm and funny, and kind and smart.
and my mom! my mom who was always "the hot mom" to my male friends (thanks for that, guys.) my mom who taught me that margaritas are best when accompanied by a sidecar of midori (and NO SALT), with hair that is as curly as she is creative. my mom, my fellow easter bunny, who taught me how to do a timestep! my mom, who would love for me to drag not only my close friends up to her house, but anyone i happen to pass along the way. mom, of the ten minute walks up her mountain that require you to be airlifted back down due to lack of oxygen!
i haven't always been able to appreciate the inner more than the outer shell, especially when it comes to myself. but having gone through cervical cancer really made me re-examine life, and the way i live it.
it's okay that my hair is frizzy and crazy, because my personality is kind of frizzy and crazy. once, my head looked like this:
i still have that first clump of hair that fell out during my treatments. i was so scared that it wouldn't grow back! and since it did, who cares that it's frizzy? at least i don't look like i lost a fight with the razor anymore.
my oncologist at the time used to very bluntly tell me that at least the hair i had left wasn't in a coffin somewhere. yeowch. thanks, dr. j. way to steal my emoness right out from under me!
i could go on and on about how i appreciate my body so much more now, because it chose life for me. and how everyone should appreciate their body and blah blah blah, but that's not really the point of this post.
the point is to say, yeah, we've all been there. i've been unhappy with my body image, and still struggle with it.
but maybe the next time you feel that way, you should consult someone like your daughter, or niece, or best friend, or husband or wife or housecat, and ask their opinion.
i bet they think you're beautiful for things other than your physical appearance.
now feed the cat.