Three Words: You Are Beautiful

I am beautiful.

Why are those three words so hard to say aloud? (Try it. See if you can without squirming a bit.)

I am beautiful.

I want to believe it so desperately. I want to look in the mirror and feel it in my bones, to fully embrace the beauty I believe is a reflection of God Himself. I want to walk in the confidence of my belovedness, confidently exuding a beauty that is more than skin deep, but also feeling pretty on the outside too. 

I want to believe I am beautiful. 

But too much of the time, I don’t.

I try so hard to change my mind about what I see in the mirror. Some days it’s easier than others–a new outfit or a good hair day or a little less bloating can all help me feel more confident in my skin. But even on good days, I’m still consciously choosing to trust my own beauty. I rarely feel it.

After so many years of fighting for a healthy relationship with my body, it’s embarrassing to admit how much I still struggle. I’ve made so much progress and feel more grateful for the way I’m made than ever before.

Even still, there is often a complete disconnect between what I see and what I know to be true. 

(I’m sharing here, not to elicit compliments–please, hear this–but to name the feelings so many women carry alone.)

Knowing something isn’t the same as believing it,

I know I’m made in the image of God–Beauty Itself. I know I’m strong and healthy and attractive enough to those who matter most to me. I know my ideal image has been distorted by media and comparison and a lifetime of feeling the need to lose weight.

I know the story that I’ve told myself about the way I look isn’t true. But for some reason, I believe the false narrative anyway.

Even though I know healthy bodies come in all shapes and sizes, I still want mine to be slender and toned, preferably without the cellulite I will never avoid.

Even though I know I have plenty of perfectly fine clothes, I still want to find just a few more pieces that will give me a couple options I actually feel good in.

Even though I know I don’t want to spend hours getting ready, I still want my hair and makeup to look as polished and flawless as other women’s.

Even though I know it’s normal for bodies to change over time, I still beat myself up for not maintaining the same weight or shape as I used to.

The disconnect between my ideal appearance and my real life body is a breeding ground for shame.

It’s time to fight back against shame.

Shame distorts everything, making us want to hide or withdraw or bury ourselves in toxic coping strategies. It tells us we will never be thin enough, pretty enough, or good enough to be loved. 

Shame thrives in silence, in isolation, in comparison. It tells us we will be rejected if we name it, but shame cannot survive being spoken aloud.

Sisters, it’s time to disarm shame by telling ourselves–and one another–a different story.

Sometimes it’s easier to practice saying out loud words to people we love. Maybe that’s where we can start:

You, dear reader, are beautiful. Unequivocally, undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.

There is no one like you.

Your body is good. It’s taking good care of you right now, and you’re caring for it today in the best way you know how. It’s curvy places and straight places, soft parts and firm parts, it’s size and proportions and the way it embodies the beauty of who you are–everything about your body is more graceful and glorious than you can see in the mirror.

Your eyes are lovely. They are a window to your soul, the place where your depths of creativity and courage and compassion lie hidden from view but essential to who you are.

Your skin is gorgeous. It’s the perfect container for you to carry yourself into the world. It’s just the color, texture, shape, and appearance that it’s supposed to be. It allows you to touch and feel and caress and squeeze and interact with others as only you can.

Your face is captivating. It draws others in, revealing your unique beauty in its perfect form. Your cheeks, nose, eyebrows, forehead, and chin all play off one another to frame your eyes in just the right way, inviting people to see you, to know you, and to love you.

You are beautiful.

(Can you practice saying it again? Try it out loud one more time: “I am beautiful.”)

The stories we repeat are the stories we believe. What stories are we telling ourselves about our beauty? 

Let’s refuse to accept the old narratives anymore.

I’m learning with you, doing my best to exercise kindness when I look in the mirror and unconsciously start to criticize my reflection. Practicing gentleness takes repetition.

Instead of a scowl, may we offer a smile. Instead of criticism, may we offer compassion. Instead of berating ourselves for what we need to change, may we thank our bodies for taking such good care of us.

There will be days when it comes easier to embrace our own loveliness. And there will be other days when we will have to clench our teeth and choose to be kind and trust what we know over what we feel.

On days like that, may we be one another’s mirrors, fighting to remind each other of the truth of our inherent beauty. May we use our words to point out the loveliness we see in one another in order to heal the wounds of a lifetime of the unkind stories we’ve believed.

Here is your reminder today. Feel free to come back to it as often as you need:

You are beautiful. Just as you are, in exactly the skin you’re in. 

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Want to reflect a little deeper? Consider these questions, or even ask a friend:

What is the story you most often tell yourself about your beauty?

What would you say to a dear friend who talked to herself the same way?

How could you practice looking for beauty in yourself and others today?