Beauty

What makes me feel beautiful?  It seems like a simple question right, but for me it has always been a tough one to answer.  You see, since I hit puberty I have always struggled with my weight.  The rest of my family members have always been thin and fit and despite my constant exercise and involvement with sports I have always been the chunky one.  I always felt like there was something wrong with me and through most of my adolescent life I felt little to no self worth for myself.  Although it was never more than just the title, I began jumping through boyfriends hoping to find someone who could give me that self worth I was looking for.  I would enter all relationships with hope and excitement that fizzled out in a matter of weeks when I realized I felt unchanged.  How could I continue to call these boys boyfriends when I still felt the same as I did when I was just friends with them.  Of course, at the time I never realized this is what I was doing and broke many hearts in my search of finding someone who could fix me. 

Then I met Josh and for some reason I was instantly bonded to him.  I guess because his life was in greater disarray than mine I felt I was the help he needed, so I was finally able to abandon my own selfish quest to actually care for a person on a lever deeper than I had ever felt before.  The help he offered fueled his need for me and I got high off of his need, in return making me feel desired and adequate for the first time in my life, but the insecurities still devoured within.  I needed to feel beautiful, wanted, desired and sexy.  I wanted to be all the things media tells us women we should be, but I felt as though I would never accomplish such identifier, but as Josh and I continued in our marriage, I found this was no longer as important as it once was because I had someone to love me despite my flaws.  

Then there was an issue with pornography and all those insecurities I had begun to lock up flooded my life in cancerous venom that ate me up on the inside for months and even years until I was able to see the pornography for what it was: an addiction.  This by no means solved any of my issues, but I was willing to ignore them to focus on the issues at hand to repair what had been broken.  It was soon after this that I learned I had PCOS, which finally gave me the explanation of my weight struggles as well as other symptoms I had wrestled with for more than a decade.  It was a comfort to know that there was a medical explanation, but it didn’t take away the fears of always feeling like I would always be less than I should be.  However, to fully understand my relationship with my body you need to understand that the PCOS not only explained my weight, but it explained my infertility.  Not only was I prone to always be fat, I was told I would never conceive a child.  The depression that hit me was debilitating and the year long absence of my husband as he joined the Army left me alone once again with all the inner negativity, there was nothing that made me feel beautiful.

After three years of trying, a miracle happened and I became pregnant.  This body I hated housed my miracle and I began to love every bulge and change it experienced as I progressed in my pregnancy.  After my son was born I didn’t matter anymore.  My world revolved around my sweet little man who changed my life forever.  It wasn’t until my husband’s return from his yearlong deployment approached that I began to consider my physical appearance once again, but this time it was a very different mentality.  I was getting healthy not to lose weight, but to feel better and be a better mother and spouse.  Although I got nowhere close to my goal weight, I was comfortable with my progress.  This was all abandoned when I miscarried as I filled my empty heart with fatty foods and caffeine.  Then the issues with my husband began and the inadequacies hit me hard in the face again.  Why must we always feel like we aren’t good enough?  I was feeling especially big, sweaty and uncomfortable this last weekend but for me it wasn’t worth the effort to do anything about it.  The day of pictures though hit me hard and I dreaded what the lens would see, or even worse how I would see myself when the pictures were developed.  I sought help from my older sister who did my hair and makeup making a fuss over my appearance and that act of kindness made me feel beautiful.  I knew I was in had other than my own and felt she was more capable of making me presentable.  I know I will fight these insecurities the rest of my life as many of us will, but I feel it is important to remember what helps us keep focus and make us feel better.  He is my list of what makes me feel better; hopefully it can grow in time:

·       Having someone else do my hair, makeup, or nails.

·       A new outfit that slims me.

·       A passionate kiss that lets me know I am desired.

·       A scale that reads a lower number than what I am expecting.

·       A love note that touches on physical beauty (shallow I know, but it true)

·       When I walk into a room full of strangers and don’t feel the need to compare myself to anyone.