Recently, one of my friends wrote that she was having issues with her hair and skin, and that she had at least enjoyed years of beauty... and I thought, "Why would she think she isn't still beautiful?" She is... and I don't think she's ever really known it.
All too many times, we let words or worries wear at our fault lines. We let people into our lives who find those cracks and weak spots, and they pick and tear at them, trying to break it all apart. Sometimes, we fixate on our weaknesses, or create those which others cannot see. No one is perfect. No one. For goodness sakes, Megan Fox is worried about her thumbs! Everyone deserves to love the skin they are in!
The struggle with the self is completely understandable. Surely, everyone has faced it a time or two in life. I started my life with big scars.... from under my breast to my upper shoulder blade and another one completely down the middle of my chest. Sprinkle in a few more from catheterizations and drainage tubes, and you had a pretty scarred up little girl. The little girl who was lucky to be alive but wouldn't wear a bikini for 15 years growing up in Florida. The little girl who cringed every time she did and someone inevitably declared, "Oh my gosh, what happened?" or took their turn at being a detective, "Were you _____ ? (Insert trauma: stabbed? Attacked by a shark? Hit by a truck? The latter being one of my personal favorites). This went on until my early 20's, when I found that tattoos could cover scars pretty nicely.
As time went on, I found that corrective surgery could even out the hole left in my chest by surgeons who were just trying to save a little baby's life, and had no idea for years how it would leave her later in life. Three surgeries later, you can almost not count all the bones in my upper chest. I found that drawing and writing could take you away from your worries and fears. I found out that exercise could make you strong, I found you can grow pretty tough over the years, and a good sense of humor can help you laugh through or about most anything.
Since one tattoo made my skin easier to live in, it seemed logical that more would be better... and that you could bling your scars with jewelry. Not only did that hold true and help me, but it allowed me to meet people who don't mind scars and ink a bit. These friends have helped me more than they could ever know. They counter the negative. There will always be a person you let into your world who discovers your weaknesses and uses them against you, and one day you realize he (or she) just taught you a valuable lesson. They taught you where all your fault lines were.... so you can rebuild them stronger. You throw yourself into your passions and create yourself into who you want to be, and you don't care who likes it or not - as long as you do. You are the only one who has to like you in your skin. It's taken me four decades to really learn to like me in my skin, to own it, to color it, to modify it, to wear it how I please, and to show as much or as little of it as I want.
It's your skin, learn to rock it. The sooner you learn to seal the weak spots, claim it, and love it, the happier you will be.
All too many times, we let words or worries wear at our fault lines. We let people into our lives who find those cracks and weak spots, and they pick and tear at them, trying to break it all apart. Sometimes, we fixate on our weaknesses, or create those which others cannot see. No one is perfect. No one. For goodness sakes, Megan Fox is worried about her thumbs! Everyone deserves to love the skin they are in!
The struggle with the self is completely understandable. Surely, everyone has faced it a time or two in life. I started my life with big scars.... from under my breast to my upper shoulder blade and another one completely down the middle of my chest. Sprinkle in a few more from catheterizations and drainage tubes, and you had a pretty scarred up little girl. The little girl who was lucky to be alive but wouldn't wear a bikini for 15 years growing up in Florida. The little girl who cringed every time she did and someone inevitably declared, "Oh my gosh, what happened?" or took their turn at being a detective, "Were you _____ ? (Insert trauma: stabbed? Attacked by a shark? Hit by a truck? The latter being one of my personal favorites). This went on until my early 20's, when I found that tattoos could cover scars pretty nicely.
As time went on, I found that corrective surgery could even out the hole left in my chest by surgeons who were just trying to save a little baby's life, and had no idea for years how it would leave her later in life. Three surgeries later, you can almost not count all the bones in my upper chest. I found that drawing and writing could take you away from your worries and fears. I found out that exercise could make you strong, I found you can grow pretty tough over the years, and a good sense of humor can help you laugh through or about most anything.
Since one tattoo made my skin easier to live in, it seemed logical that more would be better... and that you could bling your scars with jewelry. Not only did that hold true and help me, but it allowed me to meet people who don't mind scars and ink a bit. These friends have helped me more than they could ever know. They counter the negative. There will always be a person you let into your world who discovers your weaknesses and uses them against you, and one day you realize he (or she) just taught you a valuable lesson. They taught you where all your fault lines were.... so you can rebuild them stronger. You throw yourself into your passions and create yourself into who you want to be, and you don't care who likes it or not - as long as you do. You are the only one who has to like you in your skin. It's taken me four decades to really learn to like me in my skin, to own it, to color it, to modify it, to wear it how I please, and to show as much or as little of it as I want.
It's your skin, learn to rock it. The sooner you learn to seal the weak spots, claim it, and love it, the happier you will be.