Beauty
This is a deep one folks.
The other day I was at the gym. From afar I noticed a young man who had filled in a couple of times teaching the swimming lessons A was in. Embarrassingly, I find him to be extremely attractive although he is very likely over ten years younger than I am. It got me thinking though, I bet his parents are very proud of him. And then I thought, proud of him because he's handsome? I mean, I'm sure there are other things they are proud of him for but I bet they are glad that their son is a good looking guy. Proud that they made such an attractive human being.
Seems weird, huh?
And then I got thinking about my niece who is getting married this December. The fact that she's getting married has made me think of her a lot. I've been thinking about her entire life. About what she was like as a baby, a little girl, a teenager and now as a woman about to get married. I can honestly say she is one of the most beautiful women I know. For so many reasons, but also in a purely shallow way. She is the perfect height and weight. She is ridiculously physically fit and has beautiful hair and skin. I know for a fact that my sister and brother in law think she is beautiful. And I know that it fills them with pride. I also know that they have conveyed this to her as she has grown up. Maybe not by repeatedly telling her she was beautiful (although I'm sure they did that as well) but in the things they didn't say. And I also must say that despite her beauty she is a completely humble and grounded individual. Yet she has the confidence of a person who knows they are attractive.
And then I thought about myself. And this is where it gets ugly... no pun intended. I do not now, nor have I ever felt beautiful. There have been times when I think I looked really great (my wedding day comes to mind) but no matter whether I am told I am beautiful or not, I don't think I ever in the core of my being believe it about myself. Thinking back to my niece and the way that I feel her parents raised her and gave her this self confidence from the time she was born, I believe this is what I lacked. Not to bash my own parents but once I was thinking about it I don't think I ever remember my parents ever telling me I was beautiful, or pretty, or even cute. I don't remember ever feeling like they thought that way about me. In fact, if anything I think I can remember trying to prove to them that I was or trying to seek approval about my appearance.
This gets better.
What if my parents had brought me up the same way my sister and her husband have brought up their daughter? Would I feel differently about myself? What if my niece had been raised the way I had, yet looked exactly the same way as she does right now. Would she feel as beautiful?
I know I'm covering really basic stuff here and you are likely all going, “Uh, yeah duh Mama D.” But for me this was a revelation. Thinking of beauty in terms of people I actually know and not in terms of celebrities.
Finally, this all made me think about my daughter. And how beautiful I think she is. How I try not to get carried away talking about how absolutely gorgeous I think she is. Because it feels like I'm bragging. It feels wrong. I have worried about her, because of her looks. I feel so unprepared to bring up a child that is so breathtakingly lovely when I am so... not. But I've decided that it's okay for me to think she's beautiful. And to tell her so. Because then maybe she'll grow up to be a woman who is confident in who she is. Who knows that she can do anything. And no matter what anyone else ever says, she'll know in the core of her being that she is beautiful. And she will succeed.