There are days when I really don’t like my face. I look in the mirror and I see acne, and giant pores, and oddly placed freckles. My cheeks aren’t pink enough and my eyes aren’t blue enough and my nose is just a little too pointy. The whole thing is just a bit too round for my taste, like a Campbell’s soup kid. I tug at my ears and push at my cheekbones and heave heavy sighs as I cover the whole thing in makeup.
There are days when I really don’t like my body. My breasts are lopsided and my toes are stubby. My legs are too short and my fingers too long. My bottom gets bigger by the day and my thighs are constantly rubbing together in smug companionship. So I shudder and cover the whole thing in clothing.
But then there are days when I really love my face. My eyes are blue and deep. My freckles make constellations across my skin, kissing me with tenderness. My nose is little and wiggles when I laugh. I don’t look like a Campbell’s soup kid at all, but like my mom, and like my dad, like love and like faith.
There are also days when I really love my body. My legs are strong and powerful, they strike the sidewalk when I run and brush the floor when I dance. My waist is the perfect size for breathing; it expands and deflates at my beck and call. My arms are short, the perfect length for hearty hugs. My breasts love to shimmy and never complain when I strap them down or push them up; they’re just along for the ride. And my bottom, my perfectly bouncy, bulgy bottom, is always there to cushion my fall.
My face and my body are perfect. I just don’t always realize it. Your face and your body are perfect; you just can’t see it sometimes. We are all perfect little pieces, thrown together by circumstance and love, trying our best to fit a pattern that was never meant to be made by our fabric. We are all struggling, and all growing; we are throwing ourselves into life and learning and laughing as we go. That is beautiful.
There are going to be days when you can’t see the beauty underneath all the makeup and all the clothes. You’ve covered it up because you were scared and you were ashamed. It’s OK to feel like that. It’s natural. I’m not going to tell you that you should always feel beautiful, because it isn’t possible. I don’t believe in setting you up to fail. You have ‘flaws,’ as do I, and sometimes we won’t be able to see them as anything other than mistakes. There will be days when you need that heavy sweatshirt and that thick foundation to leave the house, and there will be days when you feel perfectly lovely dancing naked with your hair down.
Just remember that whatever day you’re facing, someone loves you. Someone thinks your differences are adorable. Someone loves that scar on your shoulder and that your ears get red when you’re angry. Someone loves that your tummy is soft and perfect for cuddling. Someone loves your tiny breasts and your scaly elbows and someone out there even loves your morning breath.
Whatever insecurities you’re feeling are probably irrational, because you are beautiful, inside and out, upside and down, and backwards and forwards. You are beautiful from the chipped tips of your toenails to the frizzy mass of your hair. You are perfectly unique in every way I love you for it.