Read, and heard, and thought today. March 25, 2009

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
-Maryanne Williamson
Used by Nelson Mandela in his 1994 inaugural speech (maybe)

“Don’t be too fat, or too thin, or too dark, or too light; don’t be too sexual, or too chaste, or too smart, or too dumb. Be yourself. But make sure you fit in.”
Anna, One Tree Hill, Truth, Bitter Truth

It is easy to believe that we are not enough. Not thin enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough or talented enough. Our houses aren’t clean enough, our clothes aren’t right, our earring are too big or too small or not expensive enough, our teeth are funny looking. Our dreams and desires and the secret hopes of our hearts can’t possibly come true, why would they, as inadequate as we are.

There are those in the world whose whole existence is devoted to keeping the rest of us bound in our own insecurities and fears, and, just in case our own aren’t enough, they pile on more we never thought of.

This is, of course, all lies.

If you read this post, this is my challenge to you: today, if only for one minute of your day, defy the lies. Live the truth. Be yourself, and be enough.

Then if you want to, tell your story. I want to hear it.

Cloy May 1, 2008

cloy \KLOY\, transitive verb:
1. To weary by excess, especially of sweetness, richness, pleasure, etc.

intransitive verb:
1. To become distasteful through an excess usually of something originally pleasing.

I have been noticing lately that our definitions of beauty, particularly for people, are disturbingly narrow. Turn on any TV show or movie and you see the same things over and over again — the same clothes, the same hairstyles, the same makeup, and the same bodies.

Why are we so afraid of the natural variation that exists among us?  Why can only certain attributes be beautiful?

Last night I watched a reality show that shall remain nameless because I am ashamed of my addiction, and one of the performers was someone who is, by all cultural definitions, beautiful.  I looked at her, and suddenly it was all too much.  The makeup, the immaculately styled but oh-so-carefully tousled “natural” hair, the skin across the cheekbones a little too tight, the teeth perfectly straight and white…this person who was undoubtedly pretty when she started out just…wasn’t anymore.

Pretty Hypocritical January 10, 2008

I have a confession, lest anyone out there on the internets has the mistaken impression that I have this whole body-acceptance-love-yourself-damn-the-culture thing down.

At least once a day, I think about how I would be prettier if I were thinner.

I squelch it, sometimes immediately, sometimes not so quickly, depending on that day’s particular frame of mind. Some days I fight a constant battle against it.  The thoughts range in intensity from the vague “these pants would look better if my stomach were flatter” to the full-blown “I am a hideous giant monstrous blob and no one will ever love me”.

I sincerely believe that beauty does not have to fit the narrow definition that we hold as a culture. I sincerely believe that all of the messages I received about size and beauty while I was a a child and an adolescent are lies and don’t deserve a passing thought. I sincerely believe that my size is not a determining factor of my worth as a human being or my aesthetic value. But despite all those beliefs, still, at least once every day, that thought springs unbidden and unwelcome into my mind.

I’m not proud that I still think this way, but I’m not beating myself up over it either.  That would be pretty ironic; to beat myself up over failing to adequately stop beating myself up.  After spending the better part of the last twenty years consumed with the conviction that I was hideous and flagellating myself over my weight and my appearance in general, I am actually pretty proud of the actual scarcity of those thoughts now.

Someday, God willing, I might have a daughter, and I would rather her not have to fight this battle.  I want her to live in a world where she can feel beautiful no matter what the shape of her body, the color of her hair or skin, or the trendiness of her clothes.  Ideally, I want her to live in a world where her appearance is only a tiny part if her, where she is valued for her talents, her mind, and her spirit far more than her body.  I will keep fighting those thoughts and telling anyone who will listen about body acceptance so that in her world, the thought “I would be prettier if I were thinner” is as fictional as Spongebob Squarepants.