I Am Beautiful. ~ Amanda King
I’ve started telling my girls that I think I’m beautiful.
It’s been so easy to tell them how beautiful they are, because it’s obvious.
They are the thing beauty is made of. They are the reason we started worshiping beauty. They are milky and porcelain with dark eyes that see right through you. They sparkle and dance. When they’re sleeping, they turn into soft cloud babies, little perfect tufts of white on the moonlight.
There are a lot of people like me.
Women who know things. Women who have seen things. Women with diseases in their livers. There are a lot of women with scars on their arms and words that carry themselves like sparrows.
There are women who were too big for this town, who had their backs bent carrying things like religion and a history that originated somewhere in the crook of a branch that extended over a stream.
A place where a patch of the sky was visible through the leaves, where a little girl let her bare leg dangle too far down.
There are a lot of people like me, because we’re all the same. We’re all blood and electricity. We’re lonely under the gaze of god. We’re all wet with dew and swallowing hard against DO THIS, CONSUME, SHUT UP and BE AFRAID to die.
All of you women with lines on your brow, with cracks between your fingers…it’s been a long winter. All of you, you are beautiful and so am I.
The thing is, my children are perfect. I am the grown up, so I’m supposed to show them everything about life. When they wake up in the morning, though, I stare at them and they’re new. They teach me everything. They are babies and they teach me what it means to be a person. It’s easy to see that they’re beautiful.
I am slow and I am tired. I am round and sagging. I am harried. I am sexless. I am getting older.
I am beautiful. How can this be? How can any of this be true?
I don’t want my girls to be children who are perfect and then, when they start to feel like women, they remember how I thought of myself as ugly and so they will be ugly too. They will get older and their breasts will lose their shape and they will hate their bodies, because that’s what women do. That’s what mommy did.
I want them to become women who remember me modeling impossible beauty. Modeling beauty in the face of a mean world, a scary world, a world where we don’t know what to make of ourselves.
“Look at me, girls!” I say to them. “Look at how beautiful I am. I feel really beautiful, today.”
I see it behind their eyes, the calculating and impression. I see it behind their shining brown eyes, how glad they are that I believe I am beautiful. They love me. To them, I am love and guidance and warm, soft blankets and early mornings. They have never doubted how wonderful I am. They have never doubted my beauty. How confusing it must have been for them to see me furrowing my brow in the mirror and sucking in my stomach and sighing.
How confusing it must have been to have me say to them:
“You think I am beautiful, but you are wrong. You are small and you love me, so you’re not smart enough to know how unattractive I am. I know I am ugly because I see myself with mean eyes. You are my child and I love you, but I will not allow myself to be pretty, for you. No matter how shining you are when you watch me brushing my hair and pulling my dress over my head. No matter how much you want to be just like me, I can’t be beautiful for you and I don’t know why.”
I am beautiful.
I am beautiful.
I am beautiful.
It’s even been working, a little bit. I’ve even stopped hating myself, a little bit.
I’ll be what they see. They see me through eyes of love. I’d do anything for them, even this.
I am beautiful.
Amanda King is a Pittsburgh mommy of two beautiful Super Girls. She is married to the world’s sexiest accountant and they’re all sure to live happily ever after. While not frantically writing stories and searching for the perfect literary agent, she can be found over-sharing on her blog at Last Mom On Earth. Follow her on Twitter.
~
Ed: Bryonie Wise
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Source: google.com via Michelle on Pinterest
Incorrect source, offensive, or found a typo? Or do you want to write for Elephant?
Without the mind, we would not perceive beauty at all.
Without willpower, we would have no inclination to stretch our minds beyond the surface, and to think deeply about ourselves and others around us.
Without courage, we would never find strength to peer into the mirror chanting our, “I’m Beautiful” Mantra. When all we see is a world full of women who are professional business women and super mums who take their kids to soccer, and gymnastics and attend all the school plays, the meetings, cart them to the doctors and mop up their tears and play with them and nurse them when they’re sick, and yet. These women still remain spectacularly dressed in the latest fashion, with their immaculate hair, make up and manicures, and their perfect bodies. We need courage, to understand that beauty is within us.
Without love, we would have no appreciation for beautiful people surrounding us, we would not find the deeper connections that cause us to see beauty on a deeper, multidimensional level.
Without words, we would not have knowledge of such beauty, and would not have a meaningful comprensive way of expressing our thoughts of such beauty.
without life, we would not be here. Imagine a world without you? It’s just not possible.
Many hugs to you, from a stranger. Keep on believing, and speaking the truth, you are beautiful
What a beautiful, thoughtful response. You are so right, and I'm so grateful for your words this morning.
So powerful it makes my heart vibrate. Thank you, Amanda. ~ Bryonie
Thank you, Bryonie. That means the world to me.
Really beautiful and really important. I am mother to a fabulous daughter and I think and try to live in this idea as often as possible.
Me too. We just need to keep trying our best and they'll be fine, I think.
You are beautiful
how true..they will grow up and feel unbeautiful because mommy did that too….this is powerful..thank you for sharing..uou and me ..we are beautiful beyond words..
I feel like it's crazy that I didn't think of this on the day that my oldest daughter was born, you know? It's so hard to see through all the lies society tells us about our worth, but we can do this. And I hope that our children can live in a better world.
most beautyfully written too … :~) ………
Thank you so much, Sally. What a wonderful compliment.
Thank you. You are, too.
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As a mother of a grown up beautiful daughter, I can totally relate to your feelings. In the past I fear I have shown my insecurities about myself too much to my daughter but luckily she is strong and beautiful and resilient. I am grateful to you for writing this and making me think. you are beautiful and I am beautiful too so thank you.xx