Beautiful

I am beautiful.

Does that sound bold to you? It is a bold thing to say about oneself. For a long time I would never have said it for fear of sounding conceited, egotistical, vain, self-important.

Delusional.

My trepidation doesn't change the fact I am beautiful.

I know mine is not a conventional beauty, the kind reflected in Barbie dolls, fashion mags, music videos or in leading ladies on the screen.

I am unique. Damaged. Vulnerable. Imperfect.

Yet, beautiful.

You might disagree with me and that's ok. What you think of me is really none of my business. You might be appalled at this straight-forward acknowledgement. I don't care.

You might only see the fullness of my face and think, "She's fat."

You're right; I am fat.

I am also tall, funny, intelligent, talented, sarcastic, generous, caring, impatient, over committed ... a lot of working, shifting parts.

None of which detracts from my beauty.

Mine is a life lived fully. I eat a slice of cake on birthdays, have a glass of wine with friends, indulge in Christmas cookies, share meals with my family at holidays, have a beer with my husband on a Friday night. I built this body with every bite, every choice. This body made a family.

It bears scars, visible proof of pain and survival. I am not ashamed of that.

I am beautiful because of it.

While I make the bold statement about my beauty, please understand I do not always feel it; don't always see it. I still have insecurities and some days feel more lovely than others.

Yet that doesn't change the fact that my beauty is true. Every day.

My journey to self-acceptance has been difficult. Maybe I haven't reached it quite yet. There have been many along the way who have sought - and still seek - to convince me that I am somehow inferior on the outside and inside. Those voices can ring quite loudly.

Sometimes the loudest voice has been my own.

More compelling, however, is love and acceptance. You see, my son deserves a mother who is confident and assured. He deserves a positive female role model who doesn't shrink from the challenges of this world, even if those challenges are her own insecurities. He needs to see real women as they are; not as society would have them be.

And I have a husband, a lifelong partner, whose opinion matters and deserves to be respected. He loves me just as I am. He neither wants nor merits a wife who wishes she were living in a different reality than the one we have created together. I don't pine for past youthful perfection or some future envisioned improvement. He gets the here and now, and it is wildly imperfect.

And beautiful.

On the flipside of conceit is how truly humble I feel. Regardless of what anyone thinks - positive or negative - is this ultimate fact: I am a child of God. I am beautiful by his grace and love. It is His voice that rings truer than all.

And it tells me I am beautiful.

It also tells me you are beautiful, too.

I don't even need to see you. Maybe I've never met you. I know in my heart you have beauty from within and without.

You don't need to post selfies in hopes others will validate you. Don't fish for assurances to the contrary when you sheepishly declare, "I'm so fat." Or, "I wish I still looked like I did when I was 28."

Just know it. Accept God's love and grace for you just as you are, right now at this very flawed, ridiculous moment. Live it; feel it.

It is a thing of beauty.

"I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well." - Psalm 129:14

21 years and then some

 

Last week, my husband and I celebrated our 21st anniversary.

[That's 26 years together - total - in case you're keeping track]

As I mentioned in my last post, I've been busy lately, as has he, and we haven't really spent much time together as a couple.

It's ok; we're ok. After 21 years, we do not have to smother one another in order to know we love one another. It goes without saying, though we do a good job of saying it often.

Still, a girl needs some attention from her best fella from time to time, and an anniversary would seem like a given for date night.

It wasn't.

He had to work. So did I, actually, but our work schedules are opposite shifts. I barely saw him that morning as he came home and I headed out the door. And barely saw him that afternoon as I came home and he headed out the door.

I spent my 21st wedding anniversary on the couch eating Chinese take-out with my teen son.

Not terrible. But not at all romantic.

We don't give much in the way of gifts after all these years - except for last year, our 20th, when he totally surprised me - but in those passing moments last week, however, we did manage to make an impact.

He had a huge bouquet of sunflowers for me. Nearly a week later, their sunny, open faces still make me smile when I see them. Perfect.

He is more difficult to buy for than I am, especially when we agreed to skip gifts for each other anyway. Still, I couldn't let the day pass with some sort of sweet gesture for such a sweet guy.

I put together a little treat for him to take to the office with him, a box full of candy that he likes with the note, For my Sweetie.

In it, I placed bags of candy with handwritten notes:

• Hershey chocolate bars: Something rich ... because we are rich in blessings
• Snickers: Something nutty ... because I'm nuts about you
• Mint M&Ms: Something minty ... because we're so cool
• Dove chocolates: Something smooth ... because we still got it

Yes, that last one was intentionally dorky and it made him chuckle because we are the opposite of smooth. Actually, it was all dorky and made him smile. And tear right into the chocolate as we sat there, abandoning me for the evening in a pile of Snicker wrappers.

Two days later, we were able to get together for an afternoon stroll and dinner. We held hands. We talked about nothing important, just rambling conversation. We smiled at each other, genuinely glad to be together in that moment, for that moment.

And then my son texted, ready to be picked up from his band trip and we were slammed back in parent mode.

That's ok. Sometimes it only takes little time, a little attention to tide you over. Besides, marriage isn't about one special day a year. It's about all 365 days ... x 21, + lots more to come.

[x 26 + lots more to come - total - in case you're keeping track]

A little love

Love.

It's a thing, ya know. Pop culture is full of it and we let it shape our behavior beyond our own amorous feelings. We sing about it. Delight at its depiction in art and poetry.  Watch dumb comedies about it. Weep at the end of tragic dramas when its all gone horribly wrong. Fill bookshelf after bookshelf with it in paperback form.

And then there's Valentine's Day.

Its roots go way, way back as a fertility rite, then saint day, then general day celebrating love. And by celebrating, I mean submitting couples and singles alike to tortuous commercial-generated pressure to buy this, go here, do that ... all in the name of love.

It's a thing, all right.

It's such a thing that a lot of single people tend to get down about Valentine's Day. Even married or otherwise coupled people feel the pressure to have the perfect V-Day and less-than-stellar efforts come across as hurtful or thoughtless.

I saw this article the other day on HuffingtonPost.com, The 5 Healthiest Ways to Spend a Single Valentine's Day.  Basically, the article's message is to avoid Valentine's Day and stay busy doing other, though certainly positive, things. That is one way to cope - is cope even the right word here? - with a holiday (real or Hallmark) you may not wish to participate in.

May I offer some insight? Even though I have been married forever?

Love's about a lot of things. Yes, there is romantic love ranging from sweet, simple expressions of affection to hot, sweaty passion.

But love is also about how we connect to one another. Take out the romantic aspect and love can be about appreciation, admiration, (non-lusty) affection, attention, friendship, kinship. In that light, I feel a lot of love for a lot of people.

I've told you how I feel about the truest romantic love here. My husband and I have our wedding anniversary to be all swoony about our life together as a couple. I like to treat Valentine's Day, not as a day for lovers, so much as a day for love - all kinds of love.


 

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. - John 13:34.

If Feb. 14 gets you down, don't shun it. Embrace it and make it about being a blessing to others. Whether you are married, single, coupled ... use the holiday to share simple kindnesses - a smile or compliment - to a stranger, a special treat for a friend, lunch with a co-worker, a grocery store-bought bouquet to a neighbor.

God's love: it's right there in how we treat one another.

And you don't have to buy it dinner. Or shave your legs for it.

"God loves each of us as if there were only one of us." - Saint Augustine.

Love ain't so blind

This is what my husband wakes up to in the morning.

Woof.

Retainer, Breathe Right nasal strips, wrinkles, tousled hair, bags under the eyes … it's a perfect combination of age, fatigue and weariness. And I'm not even wearing my dorky glasses.

The thing is, my husband has looked at this morning spectacle for nearly 20 years of marriage.

And he loves me anyway.

(By the way … He? Doesn't look any more glamorous than I do. And yes, I love him too. Very much.)

You might come to the conclusion, based on the evidence presented, that love is blind. After all, it was Shakespeare who gave us that phrase hundreds of years ago and it has stood the test of time.

You've heard your girlfriends proclaim it as the root of a shattered relationship: "I was blind" ... to his cheating, lying, stealing, ___ [fill in the blank].

You hear it over and over in movies, books and plays. My favorite use of the phrase is in the 2003 movie, Under the Tuscan Sun, when Mr. Martini (the wonderfully understated Vincent Riotta - swoon!) comforts brokenhearted Frances (Diane Lane) by saying it in Italian - "L'amore e cieco" - and she responds, "Oh, 'love is blind.' Yeah we have that saying too." He tells her, "Everybody has that saying because it's true everywhere."

Oh Mr. Martini, how I love you. But I gotta call bullshit on that.

(pardon my profanity ... there's just no other way to say it, folks)

I do not believe that love is blind. Love - real, true, mature, honest love - is not blind at all.

Love sees.

Love sees us, the real us. It is about more than surface attraction. It sees right through our games, lies and facades. It glares through the walls we build around us. It stares unblinking at our pettiness, our crabbiness, our inner ugliness.

Love sears into our souls, straight to our vulnerabilities, our insecurities, our fears, our hurts, our failures and disappointments.

Love takes in our beauty. Basks in our laughter. Cheers at our victories. Forgives.

Love is about acceptance, endurance. It is only with eyes wide open that we are able to fully and completely accept one another in love. We see the imperfections and love one another anyway.

Yes, we sometimes choose to look away when we suspect someone we care about could hurt or wrong us. We turn away from ugly truths. We lie to ourselves. Ignore reality. We swim in a river of denial, choosing to jump in muddy waters, rather than wade deeper through the muck toward the truth. These are choices that we make to protect ourselves. That is not the same as being blinded by love. 

And sometimes our loved ones hurt us, lie to us, deceive us. Devastating truths are revealed. Being blindsided is not the same as being blinded by love.

"Love is not a feeling; it's an ability," young Marty (Felipe Dieppa) to his girlfriend's father, Dan (Steve Carell), in the 2007 movie, Dan in Real Life.

Marty's right. To love one another - truly love one another - is a skill. It is something we are not always going to get right. But we must practice and master it with open eyes, open minds, open hearts and open arms.

Before I go, I will leave you with two things:

A less scary version of me.

And my source material for this post.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.