there is this moment when i step out of the shower - before i put my contacts in -
when i catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and think, "i see what he means...i am beautiful."
in that moment, i am just stepping out of a kind of sacred space {where i've been thinking and dreaming and processing}
so when i swing the curtain aside and grab a towel,
i am full of energy and ideas and excitement about the possibilities ahead.
in that moment, the physical awareness and impression of myself is nearly a blank slate.
i have a surge of self-confidence, inflated with visions of myself as beautiful and graceful and ready to take on the world.
and then, somewhere in the process of going through the rest of my "getting ready" routine, i start to deflate.
i notice all my flaws.
it is subtle at first but my awareness slowly suffocates the confidence which bolstered me moments before:
the desert on my skin
the fullness of my eyebrows
the way my hair falls - too fine and too thin and not straight but not curly
the way scar tissue distorts my face when i smile
my wide feet
my flabby knees
my ample thighs
my complexion
the pouch i carry even though my little joeys are much too old
the way my clothes are ill-fitting
the list is never ending - even before the fog clears from the bathroom mirror.
but this year, my husband told me he wishes i would see myself as he sees me:
beautiful.
he wishes i would accept his assessment of me and not argue - not add innumerable exceptions.
so this year, i decided i am beautiful.
it is an intellectual-emotional exercise with inconsistent results, but i am trying:
to catch myself in the moments of self-doubt and self-criticism and DECIDE that my assessment is not right.
i AM beautiful.
