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I scrolled through Pinterest ideas on his computer barely knowing how to work a new MAC laptop (I know, I know), accidentally scrolling in and out of Pinterest boards, trying hard NOT to save some stranger's pictures (hehe). I continued to run through ideas of the perfect industrial-like table that we possibly could build (although I wasn’t too sure how it would come out..ha-ha). After diligently trying NOT to exit out of a million tabs he had up on his screen, I somehow exited my search and went straight into his Pinterest home (this devil computer).
Eagerly trying to click back into searches and ideas, I saw a board created called “Beautiful” at the top left corner. I clicked on it out of curiosity, trying to see if there was anything I could use as a guide to a color or scheme for his apartment he would like. To my surprise (well actually no—I wasn’t surprised hahahahah) there were just a BUNCH of pictures of models and actresses in it. All were super skinny, flat stomachs, super toned booty, no cellulite whatsoever, perfect smile, skin, eyeballs (yea eyeballs, gosh). I stared for about five minutes until closing the board and resuming back to the “table” searches (ooo, how exciting). It took a while to set in—the curious questioning that usually follows my over-processing brain. But later on that night when I got home, my mind wandered.
Is THAT what he really thinks is beautiful? AND IF this is true, how can he think I am beautiful?
You see, I clearly did not look like any of them. I didn’t have the perfect flat stomach, I didn’t always have the perfect dewy skin, no Hollywood smile here—nor did I have the perfect symmetrical face or eyeballs to go with it (damn it, dasha, what are you good for!!?!). My arms were not thin, my legs were not 100 percent lean, and my hips were wide. Without realizing it, I, for the next five freakin' lonngggg minutes, continued to pick at myself, wondering what correlation to the view, vision, and word beautiful he could possibly make every time he saw me. I suddenly didn't feel... beautiful.
Then I stopped and processed (which I think we all should do. PAUSE AND PROCESS). Like many males and females, sometimes we let insecure vibes get to us when they shouldn’t. Yes, I didn’t have a flat stomach, but I had curves. And what IS the perfect booty, anyway? Because he seemed to alwayyysss want to touch mine.
Symmetrical face and eyeballs? PUH-PLEASE. My eyeballs change color with weather (take that!). Maybe I didn’t look like any of those pictures at all, and maybe I had NO idea why he liked me or what he considered beautiful when it came to me, BUT I knew that my body was art, too.
Better yet, my soul & heart were authentic and unique. Sure, there are plenty of others who may have beautiful features, but I realized that I probably can't ever correlate to ANY Pinterest board out there because who I am and what I will become will always be rare.
We always compare ourselves to the brushed up models we see, forgetting that they probably spend MILLIONS of dollars to look like that and have that “symmetrical face” (yea I see you girlfriend. I know it’s not from Jesus), so how DARE we even THINK to compare ourselves with anyone?
Why is it that we lose so much faith within ourselves when we are sharing ourselves with someone else? We must be confident in ourselves and confident within any partnership we experience. Beautiful can mean so many different things. If we step away from the hollow and shallowness of images, magazines, and what social media portrays as “beautiful,” we will learn to form a deeper and long lasting connection not only with others or people we love, but with ourselves. THAT, to me, is beautiful.