A Series on Struggles: Vanity

I write a lot about my struggles, but generally it's in the context of something else. As a form of self-therapy, and as a way to really confront my demons in a setting where I can't lie to myself or hide from truths, I plan to write about them, one at a time, over the next few weeks.

First up: Vanity.

I can't speak for every little girl, but a lot of little girls dream of growing up to be princesses. I never dreamed of being a princess really, but I did dream of growing up and being beautiful and tough (the kind of girl who was no doubt stunning, but could also kick your butt if the need arose).

I distinctly remember, when I was very young, trying to imagine what my adult self would look like. Would I be tall and thin? Would I develop womanly curves? Would I have a face--big eyes, big lips, the perfect nose--that I thought the ideal woman should have? I worried that I would grow up with none of these features. I was really, really scared that I would grow up and not be beautiful.

That was at least twenty-years ago, but I still carry that baggage. I still look in the mirror, and some part of me hopes that the features that I so desperately wish I had would somehow have appeared. I think that if I eat the right things, exercise the right way, put on the right makeup (not too little, not too much), and wear the right clothes, then maybe this dream of "ideal beauty" will become a reality. Sometimes, if I don't look in the mirror too often, I even convince myself that something has shifted and it's become a reality.

But, always, I do look in the mirror, and I see all these things that I'm not happy with. (I want to say that the things I'm about to say are NOT so that people will try and compliment me. If I'm going to deal with these things, I'd prefer it if people didn't refer to them at all. But I think it's important for me, if I'm going to really deal with this, to be transparent, even when it's unpleasant.)

I don't like my profile. My nose often looks nonexistent and my chin slopes down to my neck so that it looks like I don't even have a chin. Straight on, my face is very round. Due to some nerve damage as a baby, my face is just uneven enough to be noticeable. I can't control the muscles on one side of the lower half of my face at all. When I smile, I'm all teeth, and my lips all but disappear. If I stand up really straight, and pull my belly button toward my spine (like I'm told to in yoga), I'm sometimes almost happy with my body, but the minute I see a photo where I'm not actively doing these things, I cringe. I'm not nearly as heavy as I once was, but I'm all squish. And even with the weight loss, my hips and shoulders are wider than I'd like, since I'm so short. Even my fingers are short and squishy, making it hard to wear pretty jewelry, because I don't want to draw attention to my hands. I have a very short torso, which I've been told by many people is an extremely undesirable feature, and my legs are round and short. Even my hair (now that I can see what my natural color is after years and years of dying it to make it better) is a color that I've been told is like "dirty dishwater." Some people aren't even sure what color it is, it's so bland. It isn't straight and it isn't curly. It isn't thick and it isn't thin. I'm pale in a way that looks a little bit sickly and showcases dark circles and red marks easily. Overall, the only part of my body I like is my feet...

I don't need anyone to tell me why any of these things aren't true, or don't matter. People have tried to tell me those things my whole life, and while I really, really appreciate the encouragement and love that people have poured out on me, what it really comes down to is what I believe. And I believe what I wrote about myself, even if I shouldn't.

All of this pain that I've put myself through for twenty plus years is because of how I view physical beauty. I wish I could be the kind of person who doesn't put that kind of thing on a pedestal, who didn't think that looking a certain was desirable or important, who didn't think about her appearance all the time, but right now, I am. I'm a vain person who wishes with all her heart that she could look different...could look better.

I'm writing this not so that anyone who might read it will tell me that I'm pretty. I have amazing family and friends who try to build me up in that regard almost on a daily basis, and I love them for how much they pour their love out on me and try to build me up. Rather, I'm writing this so that I can see, verbatim, just how vain I really am, and by seeing it, start reshaping the way that I think about the way that I look and the way that I want to look.

It's scary, because for as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be beautiful. Now, I want to want to not care about that. I want to not think about how I look when I laugh (which, right now, I don't like). I want to be able to stop worrying if I look fat by sitting a certain way, or holding my head a certain way, or wearing the "wrong" thing. I want to be comfortable in my own skin, and I think to do that, I have to let go of this desire to be beautiful.

I'll never be a different person. I'll never have a different face. I may have a slightly different body (through diet and exercise), but it'll still be the same basic structure. These are things I can't change. It's time to stop wishing that I could change them, and instead work on changing the way I think about beauty.

I'll never be beautiful in the way that I've wanted to be beautiful for my whole life, but maybe I can realign the way I think so that that doesn't matter so much anymore.