Find your Beauty
Do you feel pressure to look or dress a certain way because of someone else’s opinion?
For years I struggled to see beauty when I looked in the mirror. On the outside, my persona was strong and confident—put together. On the inside, I was damaged, broken, and many times looked away as I couldn’t see past the pain looking back at me.
Excerpt from The Lotus Tattoo
"WE ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL"
When I was a young girl, I never felt beautiful. Skinny and cute I was—and short. I always had a little belly, and even in my teens, strangers would ask me, “Are you pregnant?” Unlike the girlfriend of Bruce Willis’s character in Pulp Fiction, who wanted a little pot belly like Madonna, I did not like my pot belly. I tried to like what I saw in the mirror, but as my body was my burden, I saw it in its entirety and didn’t like how I felt and what I saw. I saw a broken-down body, ugly and unloved.
I remember buying Cosmopolitan magazines. The models were so beautiful, and I was envious not only of their beauty but of their health. In my mind I would picture them on the toilet taking a poo. That always made me laugh because it reminded me that they were just as human as I was.
Recently, I decided to stop coloring my hair and let my freak flag fly. I have had gray hair since I was a kid; it started as a long two-inch-wide gray stripe on the side of my head that I was born with. My nickname was “Silver Streak.” By the time I was thirty-five, I had a lot of gray, and I began coloring it regularly. What started as every three months eventually turned into every two weeks. I would spend my Saturday mornings coloring the landing strip that always appeared so quickly. Another mindfuck. Coloring my hair seemed as uncomfortable as having a hot flash in a crowded room; it looked obvious and intentional, and I felt like a fake.
The pressure to stay “looking young” as a woman can be difficult to overcome. I remember telling my mom that when I was fifty, I was going to stop coloring my hair, and she gasped. ‘Don’t stop coloring your hair,’ she said. ‘You still look so young!’ When fifty came, I couldn’t do it and gave into peer pressure instead. Still working in a corporate environment, I was concerned about looking old, so I changed my goal to sixty. During menopause something changed in me, and I just couldn’t do it any longer.
So just before my fifty-third birthday, I excitedly made the decision to go for it. I haven’t wavered since. With the help of my hairstylist, Angela, whom I pressured into helping me go through this transformation, I now have my natural gray-and-white hair. I love it, and I feel as powerful as Gandalf the White, the wizard from The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers.
Like the caterpillar in Pixar’s A Bug’s Life proudly proclaims, ‘I am a beautiful butterfly!’ That has become another new mantra for me. My hair is as authentic as I am; it’s the real me, my true self. Who cares what people think anyhow? The response has been positive both at home and at work. Most importantly, I love whom I see when I look in the mirror.
These days, I love what I see in myself, and I notice beauty in everyone, no matter what they look like. I feel great, and more importantly, I feel healthy. My body is no longer a burden. Taking guidance from Louise Hay, I look in the mirror and daily say, ‘I love you; you are beautiful.’ We are all beautiful, inside and out, and don’t let anyone or society in general tell you otherwise.
Today I challenge you to find your beauty.
What’s one thing that do with regards to your looks—your hair, the way you dress, your makeup—that you’d like to change, and do it for yourself?
Make that change today! Own it! It’s a big step towards finding your beauty.