I am beautiful.
I have a beautiful body.
I don’t say that out of vanity.
I say it out of prayer.
There are over a hundred reasons that I could hate myself. There are millions of tiny voices that I hear in my head, promising me of my worthlessness. But the truth is that none of it is true. Just because something is a reason or has a voice does not make it true. Negativity needs to be carefully checked through an objective filter and then processed through the grace of God and His merciful love.
I once heard someone say, “All the horrible things you can imagine. Let yourself believe for a second – what if these are true? What is the worst that can happen? Don’t trap yourself in these thoughts. But when you’re in a good place, let yourself ask that question. What is the worst?”
So I let myself ask the question to myself in the mirror: “What if I really am fat and even unattractive?” And after about two seconds, I said, “Ok. So what? I’m fat then. What does that mean? Nothing. It tells you nothing about me.” A crushing relief fell upon my shoulders. If something that feels like this horrible fear is true – the world keeps going and my life does not change. I am not worthless or valueless. I simply take up a little more space than other people; I simply have to be more careful in picking out good clothes. It literally means nothing. So what if I’m fat? I’m not offending anyone by my size. So what?
Let’s say you look in the mirror, hoping that one day a skinny model will appear. I’ll give you the answer: You will never be happy with what you see. It’s when you look at what you have and hold your chin up. Beg the question: Let’s say I am fat, what does that mean? It means nothing. It means absolutely nothing. Now, there are other questions you can ask – such as, Am I unhealthy? Am I putting my health at risk, truly, by my eating habits and exercise habits? But I want to clarify that those two are not entwined.
Simply being fat tells nothing of my life. It does not tell you that I am funny or that I laugh at every joke, even my own. It does not tell you that I have a beautiful smile that lights up a room. It does not tell you that I do have a beautiful body, even if people disagree. People will always disagree. People disagree with my ideas of Heaven and God and that does not make me cry myself to sleep and wonder if they are correct. Perhaps I ought to cry myself to sleep over that, but that’s a whole different theological concept for another time. It does not make me doubt my faith anymore. So why do other’s ideas of beauty make me doubt my own beauty? I am beautiful. And screw the opinions that say I’m not.
Am I fat? I have fat, like everyone else. A doctor would tell me that I am overweight based on my height and weight ratio. But does that matter to my beauty? My open-rhetorical question has the answer: no, it does not. I am beautiful. I am fantastic. I am funny (sometimes). I have a heart of love. I have a need to change the world in the smallest ways. My heart bleeds in spilled ink and typed up emotional essays. So if the answer to “Am I fat?” is ever “Yes,” then the words right afterwards can be “I am really freaking beautiful, aren’t I?” without a care what their response is.
J.K. Rowling said it best – as she must, being the writer she is: “I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? … I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.”
I really want to know what question(s) you would ask yourself in the mirror. Feel free to comment! <3