Take Paula’s passport photo for instance. When she emailed it to me, I wrote back that I thought she looked cute. She immediately rebuffed me.
Was she wrong to rebuff me? Or should she have seen herself through my compliment? We are all our own harshest critics. And I’ll even go further and say we are pretty mean critics across the board. What gives?
As evidenced above, I went as Miss Piggy for Halloween. Not because I like the character, but as punishment to myself.
Since my move to California, I’ve been dealing with an emotional shitstorm in my head and heart. To deal with my overwhelmingly sad feelings, I’ve been eating too much and not working out at all to counterbalance my imbalance. Along with the eating I’ve been growing in my eyebrows, and living through bad hair color. (I miss you Bumble & Bumble). All this and more is a serious recipe for self loathing.
Today’s post is not about something tangible that I’m coveting. Because it won’t matter how I adorn myself if I don’t like the package I’m wrapping up.
We are all priceless, unique, and flawed. And while we can be wonderfully compassionate beings, we can also be terribly cruel and our cruelty has no bounds. Celebrities, strangers, friends, family, ourselves. No one is off-limits. It’s an ugly business this hatred.
If I don’t like myself pretty soon, there’ll be no reason to purchase that Barbara Bui tunic I fell in love with yesterday. To hell with hating. I love each and every one of the additional pounds on my sweet 5’4″ frame, which is held up by the prettiest sized 6-1/2 feet you will ever see. And those extra hairs growing above my beautiful hazel eyes, they’re lucky to have such company from my long, long eyelashes. The scars, freckles, wrinkles, sags and age spots—they give my already fantastic character, even more fantastic character. And my yellowed teeth, well, Crest White Strips can take care of those.
All these beautiful imperfections, and more, get to sleep next to my Kermit every night. I really am one lucky pig!
Tell us what you like about yourself. Paula, you’re first.