Sunday Confessions #2: Beauty

Every Sunday, my friend over at More Than Cheese and Beer will give a prompt and whoever wants to can post a confessional post to their blogs. We will all link together and join hands and sing Kumbaya support each other.

This week's prompt is "beauty".

I don't even want to know how many hours, more likely years, I have wasted in the pursuit of beauty. Of physical attractiveness. Trying so hard to be skinnier, shinier, smoother, better. Or at least I thought that if I was these things, I would be better. Food became my enemy. The mirror become my enemy. I became my enemy.

Then, on my 30th birthday I found out I was pregnant. 20 weeks in, I found out I was having a girl. Everything changed. Just like that, a switch was flipped. My definition of beauty was turned on it's head. My body was beautiful. It was growing life. It was growing a perfect, beautiful, little girl. One I didn't want to grow and have the same battles I did.

After giving birth my body didn't snap back to it's 20-something form. It had morphed in a 30-something woman's body. One that had grown and birthed a human. It wasn't perfect but it was beautiful. It nourished my daughter, helped her to thrive. No amount of thigh-gap could feel as good as looking into my daughter's eyes.

I vowed to never abuse myself in the name of beauty again. I want to be a role model for my little girl. I want her to see that the flaws we all carry are what make us beautiful. That her best friend's mom is just as gorgeous as the Victoria's Secret model. That a pant size or a number on our scale does not equate to our worth. That we are far more than the sum of our perfect parts. That perfection is a myth and everyone has flaws. That it is up to us to love ourselves BECAUSE of those flaws and not despite them.

My confession this week is simple: I think I am beautiful and it as taken nearly 34 years to get here.