See, I tell her horrible lies about herself. How much weight she needs to lose to be beautiful. How she really can't wear pretty sexy things because she's not thin enough. How lazy she is because she doesn't always make healthy food for herself because she's so busy going to school and working that frozen pizza is all she can manage. How lazy she is for not working out regularly and what a poor example she is for her children. But part of the reason I tell her these things is that she much more often looks like this
Then that first picture up there. She's in sweats and yoga pants without a shower or make up or 'fixed' hair. You know what I miss when I tell this awesome woman those things? That smile. The one on both of those girls in that second photo. How can you miss that?
I miss how driven she is to make a better life for her family that she has had to make choices about what to prioritize at this stage in her life. I miss the deep love she wants her children to have for themselves and the fact that she needs to model that for them. I miss her spunky nature. I miss her consistent smile for everyone. I miss her passion to live fully. I miss her compassion for the broken hearted. I miss her great baking abilities. I miss all of those wonderful things about her and so much more. I hesitated to even send that bottom picture to my love because Heaven forbid he see me at a less than perfectly crafted status.
When I miss these things about myself I miss them about you too. I become critical of everyone else's flaws. I buy into the beauty being a number bullcrap. And I want to be airbrushed and starving. Because I think that will make me happy.
But it doesn't. What makes me happy is completing hard school work that I thought was beyond my abilities. What makes me happy is sitting in my sons' room drinking coffee this morning waiting for them to wake up. What makes me happy is teasing my daughter with a million kisses. What makes me happy is dressing up for a night out with friends no matter what number I'm weighing or wearing. What makes me happy is relaxing all weekend in sweats with those I love. What makes me happy is coffee, lots of coffee. What makes me happy is looking within to find that peace from God. What makes me happy will never be a number.
But it might one day being able to see my grown children know that what makes them happy is on the inside because that is what they saw from me.