Our conscious motivations, ideas, and beliefs are a blend of false information, biases, irrational passions, rationalizations, prejudices, in which morsels of truth swim around and give the reassurance, albeit false, that the whole mixture is real and true.
-Erich Fromm
I like me. Sometimes I feel like a slob or that I’m slacking as a wife because I never make ANY attempt to look pretty. The thing is I don’t want to do my hair or straighten my hair or curl my hair or whatever because I’m really REALLY ok with my hair, the way it is, washed, air dried and really dark brown. (I am cutting it all off in the very near future though) I actually don’t like makeup because I think my eye lids are the perfect color already. I think that my lips are the exact shade and color that God intended them to be and I haven’t any desire to cover that up. I love that my cheeks have their own hue that changes throughout the day all on its own. I’m not really into plucking anything because I think everything is where is should be (for the most part). There’s this fabulous world of fashion, fame, money, and let’s face it beauty that’s shoved in front of us around every corner but I don’t think that world is real. It’s neat how someone totally “normal” looking can put on all the right stuff and become someone stunning. I don’t really believe there’s anything wrong with this. I haven’t anything against makeup. I think if you enjoy it then more power to you.
I do however think that there is something very wrong with the perception that we’re not beautiful without it. I think there’s something very wrong with the men out there that think a woman needs to look Hollywood in order to be sexy. And for that matter the woman out there that believe they aren’t sexy unless they look like the stars. Hollywood spends around 4-8 hours a day exercising, 0 hours a day eating, now they’re cutting the body parts off that they aren’t happy with and sewing on stuff they supposedly don’t have. Hollywood is comprised of puppet people. How is that beautiful? We’re told that it is. Someone somewhere is telling everyone that it is, but I’m not convinced. You know some tribe in Africa thinks you’re most beautiful depending on the immensity of the clay plate you’ve gauged into your bottom lip. They’re walking around with giant loops in their lips that they keep a plate in. How come we aren’t doing that… it’s beautiful? I’ve been thinking about this for a few days but when blogging time comes I keep forgetting about it.
I like that everything about me, with the exception of some extra fatty tissue, was given to me specifically by God. He designed me. I believe that He knew what he was doing when He created me. I believe that my eyes are the color He thinks is most beautiful for me. I believe that my hair is the color He chose for me. I believe that my skin is just how it should be (even if it is a little aged by the sun). I like me.
You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well. My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them. How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them!
Ps 139:13-17
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