WHEN YOUR FLAWS BECOME BEAUTIFUL
Yesterday, out of nowhere and by total surprise someone told me I had really nice skin.
When I heard that - and it finally sunk in a few seconds later - half of me wanted to beam the biggest and brightest smile ever.
The other half of me however, started squirming inside feeling unbelievably awkward.
Not so much awkward because a compliment was coming my way (which is how any kind of compliment made me feel for the first thirty something years of my life, which then led to the bad habit of instantly deflecting any that came my way with a quick compliment back to take the spotlight off me and back onto them, or even worse, trampling the heck all over them and replying with a super swift 'oh this old thing? I've had it for years and well it only cost me £(whatever) in the sale, and oh look it's actually marked here...' - showing them all the things I see wrong with me) because I've spent the last couple years breaking up with that bad habit and practicing a more positive one.
A positive one which sees me replying (even if I still feel a little awkward or secretly squirming on the inside) with a simple 'thank you' and a smile.
(Side note, after a while, this actually starts to feel quite nice and normal and warms your insides instead of making them squirm).
A positive one which sees me being thankful for a well meaning compliment coming my way - instead of instantly pooping the heck all over it and squashing it to death.
More awkward instead because it was a compliment I couldn't see or believe about me - the having 'nice' skin.
To say thank you felt fake and false and untrue to all of my insides that believe(d) something else.
You see, my skin has always been something that I've always seen as a, well, 'flaw' seems to harsh, yet certainly something I've always wished I could change.
When I look in the mirror and see my face, I see it covered in skin that's all washed out and uneven - especially since I developed Melasma (a untreatable skin condition that sees your face develop these weird symmetrical yet blotchy brown pigmented marks, which worsens every time the sun comes pops it's head out).
I've wished - and wished and wished and wished - there was something I could do to get rid of it, and as it's continued to spread across my forehead, my upper lip, and now my cheeks, it's something I'm super conscious of when anyone looks at me.
Yes, conscious of my own skin - The very thing I was sat there getting a compliment for.
And yet as I sat there squirming away and wondering how to reply, it made me start to think about how many other 'flaws' I might have that someone else might see differently.
It made me start to wonder how many 'flaws' every one of us might have that others might see differently - even maybe beautifully.
Like, maybe you wish your bum was smaller, or your boobs weren't so big or your hips so wide.
Yet, the woman standing next to you with her boy like figure looks at you in awe, wish wish wishing she had amazingly womanly curves just like you.
Maybe you wish you didn't have so many freckles, yet the woman standing next to you wishes she had more - just like you.
Side note - that woman would totally be me btw, freckles are the cutest thing ever and I'd happily have more dotted across my own nose.
Or maybe even you wish you could draw better, yet the woman standing next to you who can draw like a photograph wishes she could be more like you. That she didn't feel the (self) pressure to always be 'perfect', & that she could allow herself the freedom to just have fun and be playful with her art too.
Just like you.
I don't know what your 'thing' is, the thing you'd maybe love to change or tweak or 'fix', yet I'm curious how many of us judge them too harshly.
And I'm even more curious how many of us other women who see your 'thing', and maybe, just maybe, quite simply think...
"How very beautiful..."