Be-YOU-full

A few months ago I read an article that still haunts me. I don’t remember all of the specifics, but the part that hovers in my mind is this: In a survey,  4% of the women asked said they thought they were beautiful.

FOUR PERCENT??!

Only four percent. It literally sickens me.

It’s not like I’m going to sit here and lie by saying that I believe every woman I’ve ever come across fits personal idea of beauty. But I can quite confidently say that a MUCH larger percentage of the women I encounter are beautiful.

In general, I think the problem is that too many people are making the terrible mistake of believing beauty is some kind of competition. Well, damn, of course they do.  Just think about an actual beauty pageant. EVERY contestant in the pageant is attractive (or else, duh, they wouldn’t have qualified to compete), yet all the focus is on narrowing it down to who is the MOST attractive. Don’t miss the point – I don’t have a position, good or bad, when it comes to the things. I’m just saying that life is not a beauty pageant. Your own beauty is not determined by a comparison to someone else.

Go read that last line one more time.

I looked up the definition of beautiful and it gave me pleasant chills:

Having qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about, etc; 

delighting the senses or mind

See, I understand the sentiment behind the cliché, but beauty is in fact, more than skin-deep. Allow the most genuine version of yourself to radiate from within, and you’ll notice a beauty on the outside that is breathtaking.

Surely you’ve experienced this with others? You think someone is “cute” but then, the more you are around that person and the negative attributes that dominate their behavior, you start to question how you ever thought that person attractive in the first place. And the reverse is true – you think someone is “average at best” but before you know it, you’re overwhelmed with that person’s essence.

I encourage you to take care of your physical appearance – brush your teeth and wash your hair and dress in clothes that fit properly and exercise, etc.  But understand this: If you want to see yourself as beautiful, you have to see yourself.

This may make you laugh, but hopefully that’ll help you remember it. In order to be beautiful, you have to  be-YOU-ful. (Not necessarily arrogant or selfish, but you – and not someone else’s interpretation of you, or what you think will make somebody like you more.)

In hopes of raising that pathetic percentage I mentioned earlier, I’m offering these two basic suggestions to sum it all up:

 Don’t wait for someone else to tell you you’re beautiful before you believe it.

BUT having said that,

Take the advice once given to me, “Don’t question the beauty someone sees in you.”

The Truth's Quirks

The truth hurts.

So... either I have an unusually high level of pain tolerance or I get some kind of minute amount of pleasure from pain - because I have an obsession with the truth.

See, I'm that chick who could handle being cheated on or stolen from without flinching but can't stand being lied to about it. It's not those actions that would get to me as much as the deception. I guess it's because it insults my intelligence, and that annoys me more than most things.

I also have pretty decent intuition. So what happens is if I suspect you aren't being completely forthright about how you feel/why you feel/what you've done/why you've done it and so, I'll push and push until I hear you say it.

And let me just tell ya, it's exhausting. Most people are lying to themselves so it's extremely difficult to be honest with someone else.

Now, am I suggesting that my love for the truth means I never lie? Yup.
(Ahem, that was a lie.)

However, I am indeed quite truthful and this has gotten me in trouble on numerous occasions. The thing is, I feel like if I can admit to being clumsy and sometimes abrasively direct and sarcastic and dramatic at times, I think it gives me permission to point out when you're being a control freak or overly sensitive or if the pants you're wearing are completely unflattering. (Let me clarify, though, this isn't information that I'll necessarily volunteer; I'll just be honest if you ask - or if you provoke me.)

Shockingly, this doesn't always go over well.

(And let me also add that my truthfulness does not just include negative things. I don't mind telling you when your girlfriend looks hot in that dress or if the job you just landed suits your talents.)

Where am I going with all of this? Well, lately I've discovered something that has been... well, a hard truth. It turns out that sometimes the truth is just as much emotional as it is factual. And that makes it complicated. That means the truth isn't flawless and that, to be blunt, it's quirky.

I'll use the *awesome* show True Blood as an example. (Not just because the title of the show itself is perfect for this post, heehee.) I love and adore Bill - and I was well aware that things were never really "over" between him and our darling heroin -- but, damn, was I thrilled when Sookie finally hooked up with Eric (and admitted the attraction that was there all along).
*I'm not even going to bring Alcide into the picture at this point. Whew.

Yeah, it's TV but life it full of situations like that (minus the biting and crazy-powerful blood, but you know what I mean). That's why "love triangle" is such a common term and theme. Yes, you can truly have feelings for more than one person just like you can truly have a friend that you simultaneously love and hate. You can have more than one motivation for your actions - I'd venture to say that's the case most of the time, actually.

I'm writing this mostly to myself, as a reminder to go easier on people when it comes to my investigation of the extreme truth. Why? Because most people can't handle the truth.

It's too much work. I've got to breathe a little easier and channel my energy into the situations that really matter.

And I've come to this conclusion: The truth is not black and white or even shades of grey. It is simply a piercing white (hear me out; I'm not being racist) that is in actuality made up of a spectrum of colors. For some people, it is easier to focus on a single hue. Lucky for me, I can handle - and prefer - looking into the intensity of that bright light that encompasses the full rainbow.

Can You Feel This?

It was like there was sandpaper on the roof of her mouth making each word that came out sound scratchy and weak. But she couldn’t afford that; it was time to be strong.

          “You’re not supposed to be here, Timothy.”

          “Julie-”

          “I asked you not to come back.”

She turned her cheek against the pillow and studied the tension evident in his back muscles as he sat on the very edge of the bed with his head down. After a moment he stood, faced her. She watched his chest expand with a deep breath. He toyed with the bed knob, drawing tiny circles on its surface.

“Let’s just talk.”

“We’ve been through this, for months now. I can’t talk to you anymore.” Julie shook her head vehemently. “I can’t, Timothy.” Her hands remained folded, politely resting on her stomach.

“Why?”

“Because I have too much to say.”

She could see the disappointment circling his pupils. She understood the despair that caused his brow to crease. Every part of her ached to console him, to make it all better.

Well, not every part of her ached, she reminded herself bitterly. Some parts of her simply felt nothing.

One by one all the reasons they couldn’t be together anymore streamed through her mind, agonizing pieces of information she could not get past or ignore. The rims of her eyelids began to twitch and burn with unreleased emotion.

She would not cry.

Even though her eyelashes might go up in flames at any moment, she would not cry.

With long strides Timothy crossed the room headed for the door. Julie held her breath. How could she so desperately want someone to leave and stay simultaneously?

“Damn it, Julie!” He slammed his fist into the doorframe, making her flinch. Somehow, in some sick twisted manner, it gave her hope. “I just don’t understand… how could you… why won’t you..?”

When he turned to face her again she saw that, unlike her, his resolve was melting down his cheeks. His voice became low, childlike. “If you don’t want my heart anymore why won’t you just give it back?”

Her rib might as well have punctured her heart. Love came gushing out, painful and sticky, coating her insides, seeping out of her pores. “I’m trying to.”

Timothy rushed to her side, sitting on the bed with one arm poised across her body. He peered into her eyes as if he could some how hypnotize her into changing her mind.

She looked away from his gaze. “I can’t bear you children.”

“You don’t know that for sure yet. And so what? I’ll have you; we’ll have each other. And we could always adopt if we really wanted kids.”

It was the same argument he always gave. She looked down to see that he had moved his hand from the mattress onto her lower torso. His thumb stroked her hipbone softly, tenderly. She could almost feel it. Almost wasn’t enough.

To her demise her lips tasted salty when she continued her argument. “Timothy, we can’t make love.”

“Fine. We don’t need to make something we already have.”

A trembling hand came to her throat. Oh, god, how she wanted to believe him. But how could half a woman be enough for man so great?

“Sometimes I think…” Her voice came out in a whisper. “Sometimes I think my heart is overcompensating for what I can’t feel below the waist anymore.”

Timothy pressed his lips against the edge of her jawbone just below her ear. “Can you feel this?”

“Y-yes.”

“And this?” He made a slow trail of gentle kisses from her neck past her collarbone until he rested between her breasts where her heart pulsed dramatically. Each time he paused to ask, “Can you feel this?”

She gazed down at him, sadness tainting her pleasure.

“Julie?”

“Timothy?”

Several long quiet moments passed. He outlined a heart on her chest.

“I’ll leave, I’ll go without looking back, the day you don’t feel anything right here, beneath your skin and any stupid nerve endings. And there’s nothing you can do to make me leave before then…” He smiled. “You certainly can’t kick me out, now can you?”

Slowly, Julie smiled back.

But I Really, Reallllly Want It...

Recently I took Gavin to this gorgeous little park area to hear Hubby’s band and I was delighted to have all that space for the kid to run around. But five seconds into it and the little dude has uncovered some cord linked to a nearby light post. What the hell? It’s the same type of thing at home. If I bring out his blocks, books, cars and noisemakers to distract him while I clean, within minutes he’ll be unlocking the dishwasher and pulling out knives to “play with”. How does he have this sixth sense to find the one thing in a room that he’s not supposed to mess with? More so, since he has this sixth sense why doesn’t he use it to stay away from the hazardous things instead of being drawn to them?

The thing is, Mommy still has this habit too. And I’m guessing that when you see a sign that says “please use other door” you still instinctively see if that door will open. Same thing with a “wet paint” or “wet floor” sign. You just have to test it. This is why diets are such a struggle. The moment you tell yourself something is off limits, the craving becomes uncontrollable. Thanks to my metabolism I’ve never been much of a dieter… but let’s just say I have quite the attachment to Dr. Pepper. (I’m averaging only one a day which is incredible. Ok, two, dang it.)

Once I had this crazy unexpected attraction to a guy. A strong attraction. I was convinced that because what I felt was so strong, there was no way it could be one-sided. The two of us were like magnets, irrevocably drawn to one another. Turns out he was the magnet and I was just… a paperclip. One of many paperclips. And some of those other paperclips were much shinier. Ouch.

So now I’m still wondering: I was genuinely surprised by my sudden attraction to this guy, but was my attraction to him genuine? Or did I subconsciously figure out that I could never have him and thus my attraction was born? I really like to think that if the feelings had been mutual, that we would have had an enjoyable relationship, but maybe I would have been turned off the moment he said he liked me too. I guess I’ll never get to know.

Alas, I’ve still learned something. Yes, it is good to want what you have – a grateful heart will take you a long ways. But it’s also natural – and good – to want what you can’t have. Why? Because it’s that hunger that pushes you for a better life… it’s that drive that makes humanity evolve.

Once upon a time, if you were a woman you couldn’t have an education. Well look at me, I’ve got my very own blog – based upon my ability to read and write, and the encouragement I’ve been given my whole life to think and dream.

There are so many diseases and world problems that will not be solved in our lifetime, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t chase those cures and solutions. Because what we learn and do accomplish in our lifetime enables the next generation to go one step further until inevitably the world really is a better/healthier place. Look how far we’ve come, imagine how far we will go. It’s all because we continue to want something that we’re told we can’t have.