In a world of Kardashians and Hadids with perfectly sculpted faces and bodies, it’s easy to look in the mirror and want to change things about the way you look.
I got a real kick in the face this week—and its only Monday.
Since taking medication for anxiety/depression and being immobile due to injuries from a traumatic automobile accident, I have gained several pounds. All I strive to do is be honest and candid with you, so what I mean by several is nearly 20 to 25 pounds.
I was already down on myself because my pants started fitting a little too tight, my dresses wouldn’t zip like they used, and the real kicker was when a stranger asked me if, “my due date was soon.” Nothing wrong with looking pregnant—it’s a beautiful look…when you’re actually pregnant.
When I finally was released from physical therapy from my injuries, I slowly started to get back into working out (about a month and a half or so ago).
I’ve been going straight HARD in the gym and eating clean as can be and guess what? I haven’t lost a darn pound. I’m still taking medication that makes me gain weight, but for now, I am dependent on that medication and my doctors are not ready to take me off it.
Frustrated, annoyed, and feeling ugly I started to evaluate every part of my body I didn’t like.
Starting with my nose—which in middle and high school some nice girls politely pointed out on social media was big and crooked. Little did they know; I have a deviated septum from an injury at a young age. I thank GOD to this day for my tough spirit and confidence because it didn’t bother me one bit. I turned my cheek and declared that God made me beautiful and this was the nose he gave me.
This week I lost that confidence. I started researching to the point of booking a consultation for a septorhinoplasty (nose job).
Then, as I like to say, God kicked me right in the face and said, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING MY BEAUTIFUL CHILD! I made you. I made your nose. I plan every moment in your life. Why are you questioning me?”
Ouch. That hurt worse than faceplanting into a wall when I was young. (Hey, I’m clumsy and I own that and my deviated septum).
The book is all about women who’ve changed the world and left a legacy—not with how they looked, but with how they treated people, how they loved, how they worked hard, and how they changed the entire world in the name of Jesus.
I was reminded of this book today.
All of this to say: if vanity is your vitamin—STOP and listen to the truth:
“God is within her; she will not fall. God will help her at break of day,” Psalm 46:5
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well,” Psalm 139:4
“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight,” 1 Peter 3:3-4
“Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised,” Proverbs 31:30
“You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you,” Song of Songs 4:7
I’m not perfect. I love clothes, Instagram, modeling, and makeup—and I’m not saying anyone should stop loving clothes, makeup, jewelry, etc., just don’t let it consume you to the point that it becomes your identity.
Instead of spending three hours researching the perfect doctor on the east coast for a septorhinoplasty, I will spend three hours loving my nose and extra flab God gave me and encouraging all woman to do the same, because your everyday can shape an entire legacy if you choose.
I don’t know about you but I’d rather spend my time leaving a life-changing legacy on this earth rather than hours of taking vanity pills for no one other than myself. Let’s go and let’s be a Deborah, Harriet Tubman, Florence Nightengale, Ruth, Rosa Parks, Esther, Elizabeth of Hungary, and so many more legacy-leaving ladies.
Hear the good news, your body is not your own, it’s the Lord’s—and it’s perfect just the way He made it. Believing that, declaring that, knowing that—that is real beauty.