So here I am this morning in my sweats, complete with greasy hair, taking a mirror selfie because I don't give a shit right now. And, as it turns out, I think not giving a shit is the most helpful thing I can express. Having tween/teen girls in our house means we have a lot of talks about looks, likes, and just being yourself. They're so smart, crazy-beautiful, hilarious, and incredibly kind. But like everyone, they have their bad days, and so do their friends. Now, I'm just a mom, but if I can say or write anything that will ease the suffering of another, even just a little bit, then I will do it.
To the girl who's feeling ugly,
To the girl whose anxiety is high and whose breath is short,
You are not alone.
And I could write ten thousand words testifying to your beauty and strength, but I think—for now—I'll do something else. I think I'll relate how, in spite of all you believe, when your mind runs out into the dark woods of fear, you can live a good life.
I am thirty-nine (aka: old as dirt) and I have struggled with my weight, appearance, and anxiety since I was ten years old. And despite all of that...
I have fallen in love (more than once), traveled to Europe (more than once), I have swum in the Black sea and floated joyously in the tender waves of Lake Huron.
I have had secret admirers, secret nights—even if I've always just yearned for something stable and true.
I've flown to New York eleven-teen thousand times to see some of the women I love most in this world.
I've held grieving friends through the worst and allowed them to hold me.
I've given birth (more than once), and hold three children so dear it brings tears to my eyes to think of them.
I have written one million words and will write ten million more. Because even though thirty-nine may sound old to you, it is but half a life. And I'm coming at the second half with my head held high.
These I have done, and so much more and NONE of it could be stopped, even if I was believing I was ugly.
Life will carry you, my love, to everything you need. The only variable is how you will feel along the way.
So, keep good friends. Keep the cheerleaders, the protectors, the truth-tellers. Keep the ones who refrain from telling you who you are, and instead remind you. Keep the ones who don't tell you what to do, but help you remember that you already know what's right.
And remember, words like ugly are really just placeholders. What you're really saying is "undesirable" or "different" because there are plenty of people in all sorts of bodies embracing every inch of themselves and living fabulous lives. And ugly? Well, this world will never completely agree on what's ugly or beautiful, not ever. So you may as well let that go.
Take care of you. Take care of your thoughts. Don't avoid; don't gloss over. Question. Because your life won't stop, and you may as well enjoy the ride.
To the Girl