I had a little too much fun with Kara's dare I guess. I took more than one photo I actually liked.
It feels like I cheated a bit though, the window light washed out my skin quite a bit so you can't see the smaller spots, though I think the large one on my chin makes up for it... maybe. My hair is dirty as I was just about to jump in the shower before deciding to just "do this", but oh well.
I've spent a good part of this summer really trying to embrace the fact that this is my body. This is my face. This is my hair. This is what I look like. It is beautiful. It is unique. And it is me.
(I'm in a very antique mirror on a very antique dresser that belonged to my great, great grandmother. And yes, the walls are maroon with a black border and black accent wall. This room used to belong to my sister in law, and she liked it dark! we're not quite ready to paint the house yet.. so thank goodness for the giant window behind me.)
And this isn't about to become some diatribe on how beauty products are evil. It's more about me saying - what can I do for myself to stay true to myself? What should I put on my skin, on my body, around my curves and into everyone else's eyes that actually helps to show my truth and not hide it.
Being pregnant really put this in motion for me. (and going through the miscarriage too... really puts priorities at the front of my mind.) I just started falling so in love with my body and what it was doing. I want to continue to foster that. This body, it truly is my temple.
I've been fighting and hiding and complaining and mistreating my hair, my skin, my body... since I was a teen. Because I worried about what everyone else thought or how I should look or what my boyfriend would think or how cool it was or what this magazine said and what the heck for? Nothing.
So I've stopped spending two hours every morning, sweating to death in a bathroom trying to straighten out my wavy, thick hair. I've stopped battling my eyelash curler and I quit worrying about the fact that my lips don't have a lot of natural color.
I keep my eyebrows plucked, concealer on my spots and dark circles. Sometimes I'll put a bit of nude eyeshadow on if I'm looking especially tired.
I still wax the insides of my thighs because I grow more body hair than my own husband (*sigh*) but I've stopped trying to make eyeliner look right on my eyes because it just doesn't.
but if it did, or if I felt more comfortable with how it looked or it looked like me, then I would wear it. but I don't. and it doesn't. oh well. let it go.
I want to spend time enjoying my beauty. Not fighting it. Not wasted hours trying to make something work that just doesn't. But lovely moments that are authentic and helpful and true. Trying on clothes that fit, that aren't a size too small just because I wish I had a smaller chest. No more hours in Sephora trying desperately to find an eyeliner or a lipstick or maybe a lip liner this time that maybe I'll actually like. How frustrating. No more deciding not to wear my long skirts out with family/friends because I look like a giant hippie and no one else does. Because someone else might think it's weird.
You get my drift. I just want to be me. I don't want to pretend I'm all natural or anything here. Far from it. But I have to start figuring out what works for me, what actually works for me, and look like myself.
I'm going to be 25 years old tomorrow. It's just time to stop being so insecure and covered up and over embellished or much too plain. And again, just look like myself.
I'm typing from a place of strength right now... there will probably be many other days of weakness, of feeling not good enough or not right.
But there is no right. There is just exactly who I am.
So I need to remember that.