I was just going through some old pictures looking for something, and I came across some high school pictures and got lost in them. Especially proms and graduation... and something struck me. I was pretty. I mean, I came across jr. prom pics, and I hardly recognize me. In that dress, at that moment, I was gorgeous.
I wish I had known that then.
After I put them away. I wandered into the bathroom and stared at my image, frizzy rainy-day hair, smudgy mascara, and TAKS-bags under the eyes. And I wonder... in ten years, will I look back at the few pictures I have of myself now and think the same thing? And does it/will it matter? What I look like is not nearly as important to me now as it was back then. That's pretty obvious. :) But back then I was so absorbed with it, and I didn't see what was there...
Not really sure where I'm going with that, but I do know this. When I look in the mirror, I see ME. I know who I am, and I know what's important.
And I like me, frizz and all.
4 comments:
Yes, you WERE and ARE beautiful! But what is interesting is that I, too, have been going through some old pictures and journals just today, and ran across a brief journal entry I wrote about you just as you finished your first year in junior high...maybe I'll blog it tonight!
Love ya!
Mom
I like you too...especially the inside, frizz and all.
I'm right there with you. Since jr high I've always thought of myself as fat. Now that I'm older and still have baby weight to loose, I realize that I should have been happy with the way I was. If I could have just realized that I actually looked good, I would have saved myself years of bad self image. I also remember how materialistic I was in my teen years. Always wanting the designer jeans and upset that I didn't get a car. I look at Jocilyn and Steven now and realize that NONE of that matters and that I am so content and happy with my life and with myself - baby weight and all!
You have always been pretty. You have surpassed that now to true beauty. As I age my eyes see less and my heart sees more, and I see the brightness in your eyes and the smile that overflows your whole face when you hold and look at your son. That is beauty that "pretty" can't touch. You are still pretty. I don't get it---you still look like me but on you, it still works. Even better than ever.
Dad
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