Last night I laid in bed, with tears streaming down my face. Andrew, God Bless him, often deals with my emotional moments…because….well I’m an emotional person. I have fire in my bones and spark in my heart. It happens. It happens when I relax into the moments of the day that I’ve had.
I had gotten ready yesterday for my Hen’s Night (Bachelorette party). Gemma did up my make-up. It looked good. Then she popped on (well glued on..what an odd experience) fake lashes.
Now, I know that it’s vain as hell to say “HOLY! WOW! I look AMAZING!”. I have never been someone who puts much effort into what I look liked daily. And I have to admit that in the past couple of years, I’ve lost sense of who I am when it comes to my beauty. I have wrapped up so much in my own issues with my weight, that I have forgotten to nourish and tap into my own sense of physical beauty. I have dressed up occasionally and sometimes put make-up on….but I find myself yearning after the skinny girl that once was. Feeling as though, I’m NOT as beautiful because I’m NOT as thin as I once was. I’m just being honest, I appreciate how trivial and silly that is. But sometimes that’s what rides on my heart. The lies of the web that can encroach on our being and our soul.
I don’t know what happened last night, or why it hit me harder and more powerfully. But I felt beautiful. It wasn’t just the fake eye-lashes or the fact that I found a dress that I loved. In fact, I had to go up a size in my dress…because there’s something fabulous about a dress that feels good and makes your shape look lovely. Regardless of the size. Stop.the.obsession.
It wasn’t just that the make-up looked good, I felt feminine in my dress. I just felt beautiful. I felt like a woman. Someone who was coming back into my own. Where my heart felt lifted, where I actually felt my soul shining through. Doesn’t that sounds SUPER cheesy…but I mean that in the most genuine sense that I can. There have been fleeting moments of feeling that spirit within, but they have been far and few between. It is a daily struggle, sometimes, to quiet the inner mean girl, to find my own. But last night I found it again. I have felt that I had forever lost that girl, the girl that knows her own place, is confident in who she is, sees her beauty as a holistic package. She got lost somewhere in the roller-coaster of my weight journey. Between the binges, the calorie counting, three degrees, and changing of clothes sizes.
You are altogether beautiful, my darling, And there is no blemish in you. ~Song of Solomon 4:7
But I found her again. Fuck, she’s fabulous. She’s free, she bounces around. She’s confident. She’s in tune with who shes is. She’s fun. She radiates.
I like her.
‘Exposed Movement Week’, 7-12 October, where hundreds of people have found their beauty. Join us this year!