I looked up from my greasy lunch plate and there should stood. I stared at her enviously while she gave her order at the counter. I took it all in not missing a single ounce of the perfectness she exuded, from her long, frizz-free hair to the way she still managed to have a space in between her inner thighs. I just knew the in-seam of her pants didn’t dare rub together when she walked! Her fashionable attire didn’t go unnoticed by my highly sensitive eyes, and I was amazed how her handbag and shoes matched so well that I was certain they had to have been purchased as a set.
As I sat stunned with a fry suspended half-way to my gaping mouth, I couldn’t tear my greener-than-usual eyes from her pert derrière. I gawked at her from behind, actually at her behind, with her none the wiser, while simultaneously comparing her physique to my own sagging bottom, and effectively causing me to self-ridicule unintentionally.
I had seen her around, knew of her, but couldn’t even place her name. I knew she was still considered a newlywed. I thought, Well, she hasn’t had kids yet! That will all change one day! I spoke this catty affirmation to myself as a balm to soothe my injured self-esteem, like somehow cutting another could build me up.
Just when I thought I might convince myself that I truly believed she looked like she had gained weight since I saw her last, it hit me that I was being ridiculous. What is wrong with me?! I thought as I looked over at my young daughter.
At that moment I imagined how terrible it would have been if my daughter had been watching me. I imagined how I must have looked, eyes narrowed, an expression of judgement across my face. I pictured how ugly I must have appeared as I compared my own beautiful body, a body that had bore children, that still held them, nurtured them, heck, even fed one of them, to another woman. It wasn’t fair to her, and it wasn’t fair to me. If my young daughter, just beginning to develop her own confidence in herself, had managed to witness my behavior, well, it would have been most unfair to her.
So why do we do this? What is it in a woman’s DNA that makes her think she’s not pretty enough, thin enough, or toned enough? Or maybe she questions why she’s not smarter, a better cook, a better wife, or a better mother? She wonders why she hasn’t gotten promoted at work or why she doesn’t have more friends.
Silly questions come like, Why hasn’t my husband complimented me today?
Or, I saw where the girls got together for bunco. I wonder why they didn’t invite me?
Maybe, I would offer to help with the Christmas party, but I’m not as good at planning as Jenna is. I don’t even think I’ll go!
We convince ourselves we aren’t good enough, or we’re not likable, or even attractive enough to our spouses. So, we end up sitting at home in our pajamas with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.
Something occurred to me that we may be missing. We are our worst critic. This is so very true. I think if we turned around from the counter we were standing at we would be surprised to catch another woman staring at our backside.
I’m not trying to say you have a gluteus maximus that is the envy of every twenty year old, but I am saying you got something. We all do! We all have beauties, talents, and wonderful attributes that make us the envy of some of our peers.
The problem is that we’re so busy comparing ourselves to someone else that we can’t see it. We’re so busy putting our flaws under the microscope that we miss the apparent beauty.
We even miss that there’s a special kind of beauty even in our flaws. We miss the fact that the flaws are distinctive marks that brand us as the unique creation designed by our Heavenly Father. We forget that those flaws are often the result of precious experiences in our life that have made our hearts content and as full and rounded as our subsequent birthing hips.
We forget that our daughters, our granddaughters, or other young ladies are watching us. They’re learning how to see themselves and how to see other women by watching us. They’re learning how to base their self-worth by how it compares to someone else, and this shouldn’t be so.
My daughter deserves to know she’s beautiful. She needs to know she’s a special, lovely creation of God made just the way He intended her to be, and that the design is perfect in His sight. She needs to know confidence in herself, her abilities, and her special talents as they arise.
The best way she can learn this is by example. From me.
As the young woman at the counter turned her perfect little buns around and walked past my table I smiled and said hello. I almost felt like I should apologize for my earlier thoughts of envy, but I knew she had no idea of my regrettable feelings, so I kept them to myself. In all actuality she probably didn’t see herself half as beautiful as I saw her.
The thing is, we all have something just perfect and beautiful about ourselves in the eyes of another. It’s time we started trying to see it too.
That is all 🙂