There are generally three kinds of women that you can be. The “love yourself so treat yourself better” kind that constantly work on changing themselves, the “love yourself as your are” that refuse to acknowledge any flaws or bad behaviors , or the kind who chooses not to love themselves at all. I know there are actually many more, but these three seem to be the personality types that I flit between. I struggle with accepting that this is me now. But I also refuse to believe I have to adapt to other people beauty standards in order to be fucking fabulous. And then there are days where I want to smash all the mirrors because I have a giant zit on my chin and my eyebrow got waxed half off.
Here is the thing. I am about way more than just myself now a days. I’m an example to a little person who takes in way more information that I want to believe. Last weekend, my oldest was having a typical three year old moment while we were at the park. Needless to say, I would have done A LOT to change his mood around. So I gave him my “big girl” camera. He was so stinking proud of himself! He walked around taking pictures of all the dogs, building and trees, and of course, photo after photo of mommy. It was too cute for words, and I was pretty damn proud of him myself. (Thank you digital photography!) I was so excited to look at the photos and see the world through his eyes.
There were actually quite a few good shots in there! Some of Sheldon, a few of the Hudson River and then I got to the pictures of me. At first, all I wanted to do was delete them ALL. I could barely stand to look at them. All I saw were double chins and rolls. My husband was sitting next to me and burst out, “Look how beautiful your smile is! That is your real smile.” As I clicked through, I noticed that each and every expression on my face while looking at the camera my oldest was holding was filled with pure happiness. Pride. Love. And contentment. I wasn’t sitting there sucking in my stomach or tilting my chin to hide the other two. I smiled at my son and let him know that he was LOVED.
And he smiled back and showed me that I was, too. The grin on his face shared that unconditional joy we feel when the person who matters most in our lives is on our same level.
It is so easy to only think of ourselves as the person standing in the mirror. We know exactly how to position our hips to hide, contour the shit out of jaws and smize like our life depends on it. And that woman in the mirror or in the selfie is incredible. But so is the one sitting on the couch with a little extra roll. Or dancing like a goon in the middle of the grass with some extra pooch. And that mama, totally make up free with unbrushed teeth that walks into her baby’s room in the morning to wrap them up with the warmest hug in the entire world, she is the most amazing of them all.
I’ve made it a point through out this past week, and will throughout the rest of my motherhood, to hand the camera over to my children. To let them capture their own memories, not the staged Instagram versions. The real parents they sneak up on kissing in the kitchen. Their mom bent over the sink washing dishes or reading their sibling a book. Their messy rooms that aren’t messy in their mind, but a treasure trove.
I hope that this is a reminder to you that it doesn’t matter what stage you are in. If you are on a journey or you’ve left that uphill battle for a road easier traveled. If you feel your best today or are sitting at your lowest. You are loved. You deserve love. From others, but especially from yourself. In front of the camera or the mirror. Fresh faced or made up. Pajama’s or heels.
