Last night I ran into one of my daughter's friend's moms. I hadn't seen her in quite some time. She had lost weight (though she was still not what anyone would call svelte). Her hair looked pretty. She looked 10-15 years younger. She looked lovely.
I spoke to my daughter about her this morning. She said that she had been experimenting with dressing better and wearing make-up because of a new career opportunity.
I think her experiment was a success.
And then I wondered -- why can't I cut myself the same break?
Like I said -- she was thinner, but not thin.
She was considerably less frumpy, but not glamorous.
She was so happy that she glowed.
She. Looked. Great.
I qualified it above, but only for the sake of comparison.
Because I, too, am thinner but not thin. And I can't forgive myself or the powers that be for that. I gave up all of the things! I work hard! I deserve to be hot, not slightly less gross!
I would have never said or even thought those things about her. I simply thought she looked great.
I, too, have been playing with make-up and hair and it makes me feel better about myself. But I beat myself up because I'm not beautiful.
I have been told that my happiness shines through. Or did, until quite recently anyway. I hear that as "she ain't much to look at, but she's got a good heart".
Isn't that stupid?
That is not what I thought of her at all.
I thought she looked great.
Not: She looked great for her.
Not: She looked better than she used to.
Just: She looked great.
I need to work hard on cutting myself the breaks that I instinctively cut her.
Why is that so much harder? Do we hold ourselves to higher standards than we hold the rest of the world to? Is that fair?
I think I'm going to tell the mirror it looks great today.
I'll try not to laugh (or cry) when I do so.
It will be a step in the right direction.