Where I come from and God's creation

I don't tell many people this and I think every woman or girl has felt this way. So, I don't feel like I am "different" or "special" because I once thought this or occasionally still do. But, I feel that sometimes saying it out loud may help another woman understand or feel comforted.

When I look in the mirror it's not what I thought I looked like. I always thought my skin was smoother or possibly less splotchy. My hair looked better or didn't curl in certain areas.

I remember how I once looked in the mirror at myself, I must have been 12 or so, and thought: "That can't be me. Who is this person looking back? Do mirrors really work?" Of course it was me but I didn't think I was pretty or that anyone else would think I was. Where did it come from? I'm not sure.

It could have come from my mom or my dad. It could have been society or just Satan being himself to me.

However, I do remember my dad referring to my mom as a whale, when she was trying to climb into our family's boat. I remember my dad telling me a woman was to "big" for him and thinking she was the same size I was. Or my dad saying he wanted a "No Fat Chicks" bumper sticker. I remember my mom being on endless diets. I remember her telling me she wasn't going to eat whatever meal we were having because she had a donut earlier that day. I recall being worried that my mom wasn't eating enough when she was pregnant with my youngest brother. Or my mom always telling me to suck in my gut. I also cringe when I think of how my aunt told me I was a heavy little girl growing up.

But the funny thing about all of those memories, I don't remember being worried about being fat or weighing too much. I just remember feeling like I wasn't pretty or enough.

And now that I am a mom I worry about my sweet little girl. One day I freaked when I told her she was skinny, me being worried she was too thin, and her smiling at me proudly and saying how happy she was skinny. Where did that come from? I thought she was perfect any way she was. Was I sharing the feeling that being skinny was the only way she was pretty? Maybe.

But as I think about it, I am telling her that because I am not proud of myself. Children know. I remember knowing, even without words, what was going on at home. My parents didn't need to say it straight out for me to understand.

And so now as my beautiful girl is growing up, I realize I must learn to love myself. No matter if my hair is going gray way too early, if my weight is a little too high for my liking, that I still have acne at age 34, or that my breasts aren't where I would like them to be.

I must remember to be proud of who I am for my boys, so they can look at women and see the beauty they have. Because heaven forbid, I don't want my son referring to someone they love as a "beached whale" or no being pretty enough.

So after my big poor me party here. I am going to pick myself up and remind myself that God loves me and created me. God doesn't want me looking at His creation and saying how horrible it is.

I pray you too will look at yourself and see what a God sees!