The Contentment Challenge--Day 7

It's the last day of the challenge, and I find myself back at the beginning, wanting to know what contentment really is. Is contentment a couch we settle into at the end of a busy yet satisfying day? Or is it more like a rest stop on a long road trip? Is contentment that "end" something I'm looking for, or is it a peace about not being ready for the next change just yet?

Being content with who I am does not and should not mean that I don't look for ways to become a more fully developed human, a better wife and mom, and a healthier woman. A self-professed contentment can easily become just the excuse I need to stop trying when things get hard. 

I have always lived in the gray bog that hangs between depression and elation. I enjoy life, but I'm not out to get thrills or conquer the world. Occasionally, I get really sad and stuck. Also occasionally, I dance around the house and cross off everything on my to-do list. But most of the time, I'm "content" to be a person who needs a lot of down time and has a small life.

But accepting myself this way keeps me from trying life another way--any other way.  

But the plot thickens when you add mental illness and special family needs to the mix. I have already been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, and I'm fairly sure I'm going to earn a place of the Bipolar spectrum. I don't say that lightly. It's just fact. So "contentment" and motivation to change are a little less...intentional, it seems. Then there's my family. A fragile person like me (I know I'm oversensitive--no shame here) is easily overwhelmed by having a child with ADHD. So my lack of motivation often feels like either recovery or reinforcement. 

So, contentment. It's hard for me to arrive at, maybe even harder to move forward from. My challenge today is to pursue contentment and growth at the same time. For me, this reflects the beauty of the living art that I am--beautiful in my frailty, beautiful in my potential, beautiful in who I am and who I can be. 

Find your contentment and imagine where you can go from there. 

The Contentment Challenge--Day 6

Lately, I have been feeling too small. I want to take photographs, but all I have is my little iPhone. I want to host big parties, but I can only get a couple people to come. I want to be a creative writer and get more readership for my blog, but it remains more like a journal for myself and a few faithful readers (thank you!). 

I have a small life, but at the end of the day I must actually want that, since I don't take steps to go above and beyond. I suppose I could put myself out there and find a job that put me in a position to help a lot of people. I could buy a new camera and study some photography books, maybe take some classes, and really develop my skills (pun intended). I could submit my blog to various blogger groups and spend money trying to promote it. 

But I would rather spend my time reading great books, meeting friends for lunch, playing My Little Pony Monopoly with my daughter, teaching English to an Ethiopian refugee, etc. Those are the moments that make me feel alive and content. So I need to stop dreaming about how "large" my life could be and get my magnifying glass out on the life I actually have. 

I am content with my grainy iPhone pictures, because they reflect my ability to capture beauty while I'm on the go. I am content with my little parties, because the planning process is fun and makes the party enjoyable for whoever does come. I am content with this blog because it has been important for me to process my hair loss, regardless of the size of my readership. 

So, are you content with the "size" of your life?

(Have you been enjoying this challenge? For more a extensive challenge to find contentment each day, check out the 100 Happy Days challenge if you haven't already seen it.) 

The Contentment Challenge--Day 5. The "selfie".

Last night I was in a local high school taking my daughter to swimming lessons at the pool there. I saw a poster on a wall for a "self-confidence" group for girls. They had posted a challenge called #ilovemyselfie. The challenge, which I will adopt as my challenge for today, is to tweet/post/Instagram a selfie with no edits or filters. A natural self-portrait.

This is actually a great challenge. And a really difficult one for me. Every selfie I've posted has been creatively styled so I can pass it off as art.  So I decided to take this challenge.

I took several selfies trying to find one that I was okay with posting. And I wondered what it meant to post a "natural" selfie. Should I take off the eyeliner and eyebrows? Should I wear a scarf like I usually do, or should I go bald? I want to look natural, but I also don't want to post an unnecessarily downplayed picture of a woman who has put no effort into how she looks. I'm not sure that's "natural".

So here's the pick:

No makeup, the cap I wear under my scarves (call me crazy, but I don't go bald when it's 7 degrees outside), no photo finishing apps that color my lips or thin out my cheeks.

I'm trying really hard not to write more about this picture and just say "I love my selfie".

If you're interested in more perspective about the "selfie" phenomenon, read here.

The Contentment Challenge--Day 4

Looking at photos of myself will never be easy. I have just accepted that. I remember the day my fiance and I got the proofs from our engagement "shoot". I had been so looking forward to seeing them, because I had felt so cute the day we went out. But when I saw the results, I remember being mortified that I had dared to think I would make a beautiful bride-to-be in pictures. I think I cried in my room and hid the proof binders for quite some time, hearing my fiance knock on the door because he wanted to show his family the pictures. I was so embarrassed. What I had imagined as a playful giggle at the time turned up in one photo as a wide guffaw that resembled something you would only see on a farm.

(Photo retrieved at http://www.fotothing.com/SomersetDreams/photo/a8b1e626dc3bb52571a34d3b77625be8/)

What I thought was a relaxed stance looked more like the Hunchback of Notre Dame in the photos (I can only hope my posture has improved after that wake-up call). On and on the blows came. The pictures, through no fault of the photographer's, had not turned out the way I had imagined.

My pictures never do. A few years ago I had a friend of a friend take pictures of me in one of my favorite neighborhood spots...completely bald. It was a huge milestone for me (read my original post about my "unveiling" here.) But I similarly felt discouraged at my inability to look in pictures the way I imagine myself to look in real life.

So, today I choose some photos from that shoot to put on public display--and I choose to be content with the realities they depict.

Flaw I get hung up on: My earrings stick out like pirate hoops.
Reasons I am content: I have nice, long legs and a nice smile. Hoop earrings are made to stick out like that.

Flaws I get hung up on: One eye is smaller and squintier than the other. Major belly revealage. And those earrings...
Reasons I am content: I love that scarf. I love the angle of the horizon. I could be a shipping company owner here because I look confident and powerful.

Flaws I get hung up on: Oh, the blinding white orb that assaults my eyes. What a prominent skull. And the wrinkles abound. And the gums show forth.
Reasons I am content: I obviously really had fun doing this shoot. That's a smile I couldn't fake. And I really like that red jacket.

Flaws I get hung up on: Eyebrows are too manly. Freckles. Incongruence of dainty, feminine flowers juxtaposed with a bald cranium.
Reasons I am content: I love the light in my eyes. I love that I am standing in a lilac bush. Ah, I can smell them now...And I know each of those freckles. This is a familiar, intimate look at my face.

Flaws I get hung up on: That squinty eye again, those darn wrinkles, those big gums. 

Reasons I am content: I am seldom seen laughing like this! I look healthy. I really love the color of my shirt. 

So, there you have it. A set of photos that may or may not have been included in my original set. The process of choosing pictures was interesting. I wanted to pick photos that I cringed at initially, but I didn't want to choose photos that I have put in my "never see the light of day" folder. I didn't want to choose photos that I liked, because it would be harder to write about the flaws. Isn't that ridiculous?! 

But really, this has been a good exercise. The longer I looked through these photos, the harder time I had choosing ones that I didn't feel good about. 

You should try it. Look through that photos that make you cringe and find the reasons why you didn't toss them out. 

The Contentment Challenge--Day 3

My daughter really doesn't like to hear me put myself down. If I say I'm not as good at something as someone else, she flat out gets in my face and says "No, you're better!" If I admit weakness in an area or lament my lack of talent, she looks at me like I'm crazy and says "Yes, you're really good at that!"

What a gift! 

Often we laugh at the brutal honesty of children as they point out blemishes in public and innocently air our dirty laundry. But kids can also see right through the bull**** of our self-deprecating remarks and tell us the truth that we find so hard to admit--that we are not only good enough, but we are excellent.

So, today I accept the "me" my daughter sees: a musician, a singer, an artist, a beautiful woman, a chef, a fashionista, a genius, a mother. I am content that she sees me that way for now. I am content with the fact that I am enough of those things for her to experience, even she is using a rose-colored magnifying glass. 

Thanks sweetie. :) 

Can you be content to see yourself as someone else sees you today? 

The Contentment Challenge-Day 2

Last night I had a special birthday party to go to, and I almost ditched it for my bed and lots of candy. My preparations for the party looked like this: put on a scarf, rip it off and throw it on the floor; put on a wig, rip it off and throw it on the floor; put on a hat, rip it off and throw it on the floor; etc, etc, etc. 

Nothing was working. I couldn't wear a big scarf around my neck and a big scarf on my head. I couldn't wear a wig because they all poked, scratched, and look unnatural. I couldn't go bald because we are still living in the Arctic. 

Nothing. Was. Working. 

I finally decided on this cap: 

Not my best look, but I was late and I stopped caring. I threw a winter hat over it and left in a huff. When I got to the party, a man took my coat...and hat. It was that awkward moment when I had to reach up under my winter hat, put my hand on my head cap to steady it, stretch the winter hat up and over so the cap wouldn't come off and expose my scalp, and then adjust the cap anyway. 

But...today I celebrate the fact that I went to the party and ended up having a good time. I am content with the fact that I can overcome any first impressions by the way I hold people's gaze and let my personality shine through. And now, looking at this picture that I sent my sister when I was doubting whether I could actually go out in a cap like that, I think it looks retro chic, like I was at a party at Jay Gatsby's house. 

Where can you find contentment today? What moment will you celebrate?

The Contentment Challenge--Day 1

I'm in one of those emotional places where nothing is right. My entire wardrobe needs to be trashed, I'm so sick of being bald that I want to scream, I can't figure out how to get my eye makeup to look normal, my nose keeps running, I don't have a house with a yard, and my husband and I don't go out for dates and take pictures of our cute selves together. I have too many wrinkles in my forehead, my cheeks are too puffy, I'm not a good kisser, and I can't sew. And my head is too small.

My number one enemy right now is comparison. I think everything would be just fine today if I weren't comparing my life to other people's. I look around, I look at magazines and Facebook photos, I watch movies...and I see "better" everywhere. And it really ticks me off.

So...I am challenging myself. For the next 7 days, I will practice contentment. Not the kind of resigned acceptance that doesn't allow people to feel true joy, but the kind of contentment that comes from a sincere appreciation of present conditions, no matter how they look in the light of another person's circumstances. We all know circumstances can change. We have all been surprised to find out that the perfect couple whose pictures used to gag us are now getting a divorce, or that the family whose kids win all the awards are struggling to hide a substance abuse issue. It's so easy to look at a photo and think it represents a perfect life, but the best we can usually claim is a near-perfect moment here and there.

So, this week I'm going to celebrate those moments with people. I'm going to find something each day to congratulate someone on. I'm going to find something each day to love about my life.

Today I celebrate the announcement of a baby on the way! My sister-in-law and brother-in-law are expecting, and they had a professional photo taken of the "belly embrace" that made me simultaneously feel joy for them and sadness for the lack of picture perfect moments in my own life. I guess that's just jealousy that I often don't think to document life with nice pictures. It's jealousy that I don't look like her. It's jealousy that I don't have a house to raise my own kids in.

But...today I celebrate the perfect moment with them. It's an amazing and special time in their life, and I am overjoyed that she and the baby are healthy...and that I will get to be an aunt!

As for me, I need to remember that I did have wonderful "mom-to-be" moments. Like this:

Living in an amazing city, right down the street from the beach, looking classy. I love that moment.

What moment can you celebrate today? What do you love about your life?

Secret Selfie

I wore hair the other night. And then I posted a picture of it on Instagram, which also ended up on Facebook:



A friend told me that I was obviously insecure and looking for affirmation.

The funny thing is that I did get a lot more "likes" on this picture than I usually get. Maybe I was just looking for an ego boost because I'm insecure. Or...perhaps I was just playing by the rules.

Facebook is such an interesting world--at least the way I use and experience it. A post about a new hairstyle blows up with 50 likes in a minute, a new baby gets over 100 in the same amount of time, and a homemade flower arrangement gets 17-20. A post about an organization rescuing young girls from the sex trade gets...a few likes. Maybe one share.

I used to get upset about that, but I think now I just accept the fact that Facebook has its uses. For me, it's not a place to get a message across. I've tried--it doesn't work in my circle of "Friends". No--I mostly use it for keeping my mom and sister up-to-date on my latest style (given that I had no style in all my years living at home) and getting sympathy and attention when I need a quick fix. I can get those things either by posting a vague yet clearly distressed status ("Days like this make me want to hop on a bus to Texas, change my name and become a bartender") or, as in the case above, by posting a carefully-crafted picture of myself that I know looks really good. I just pretend I don't know it looks good.

Is that bad? I think about friends and family who have posted "selfies". I recognize that they are putting themselves (or one version of themselves) out there, on display, in a show of vulnerability. They/we are looking for acceptance and confirmation of the beauty we think we see in ourselves. When I post a selfie, I know I will get lots of comments. People are always anxious to tell me how good I look because, well, I'm a bald woman and need a lot of encouragement. So I post a nice-looking picture to get a few oohs and aahs. Sue me.

When we make a change that we feel good about or accomplish something we're proud of, we want to share it. People have always done this--now the audience is just bigger. Rather than asking your man if you look fat in your newest mall purchase, you can ask 400 people at the same time. And they will answer you, because they are looking for meaning in the world of appearances as well.

So yes, it is shallow. But it also speaks to something that runs pretty deep, actually. Something that I write about over and over again. If there were no audience, would we still be posting selfies? Why not? Why do we need to know that someone else will be looking at our picture before we decide to take one? Why not take a selfie just for myself?

That's my challenge for you tonight/today/this week. Take some selfies and don't show anyone. In fact, take your best selfie ever and don't show anyone. At least not for awhile. Appreciate your own beauty without the need to measure it against any standards. Fill yourself with contentment that does not come from outer praise, but from inner recognition of your place in creation (Hint: you are the crowning jewel).

If you come to this place of self-love, then you can post your picture if you want. We will all love it. No one will judge you for posting a picture of yourself just to get attention. We all do it. We all want the world to know what we look like whenever we do something that looks good. Nothing wrong with that...as long as it's not identity-forming.

All Dressed Up

How many of you feel like it's a waste to get dressed up if no one will see you? I get these nice work digs on, drive to work, sit in the tutoring center with no customers, and then drive home to change clothes. By the time my husband gets home, I'm "bald, sweatpants, food stains" mom. I will often stay in my work clothes until he gets home, no matter how uncomfortable I am. Then, of course, I end up getting taco sauce or vegetable oil on my nice clothes. But what's the point of looking nice if no one's looking?

Why can't I just be good enough for myself?

Here's my plan:

Step 1. I'm on the hunt for super cute lounging clothes that I can feel sexy in at home.
Step 2. Time to invest in more big, dangly earrings. They dress anything up!
Step 3. Sending pics of my fancy self to hubby at work? Why not?!
Step 4. Look in the mirror at work and say "Wow, you look really nice, honey." And believe it.
Step 5. Go to the grocery store in dumpy clothes whenever I can to break the habit of wondering what people, men in particular, think of how I look.

What would you do?

Not this again!

Toothpaste, cosmetics...and a razor?! What?! Since when do I need a razor? Hello, alopecia universalis.

Apparently, my body is a little wishy washy when it comes to my hair, as is the case with all alopecia alumni. After being totally and completely without hair for years, minus a little peach fuzz on my face, I am suddenly finding sprouts in highly undesirable places. My body can't grow hair on my head or give me eyelashes. Oh no. Instead, my body is functioning properly on my chinny-chin-chin and (worse yet)under my arms.

Why, of all the irritating....

"But", some people excitedly tell me, "this means your hair is starting to grow back! You should be grateful!"

First of all, this does not mean my hair is growing back. Sufferers of alopecia universalis learn to hold hair lightly. It may come, but it will almost definitely go again.

Second, I don't know any woman who is excited about hair under her arms. Having no hair anywhere else does not induce me to jump for joy when I see hair in the only places it was worth losing it in!

When I first saw the little black hairs while I was getting ready for a day at the beach, I grabbed the nearest pair of tweezers and just went nuts. Finally though, I had to break down and buy a razor. I know I'm just succumbing to socially-assigned rules of feminine hygiene, but I just can't go around with hair under my arms when I don't have it on my head. That's crossing the line for me.

So, shaving has once again become part of my daily routine. (Well, weekly maybe.) I lost THE best perk that came with losing all my hair. The only good news is that, if I wait a couple years, it will probably all fall out again.

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 5

Someone asked me yesterday why I had changed my Facebook profile picture. I had been using a picture of a drawing my daughter made of me, but I was a little bored and decided to change it to the picture I posted on this blog yesterday. As I talked with this person a little more, we discussed motives for posting certain profile pictures over other ones. We tend to choose really flattering photos to post as the representational images of ourselves. There's nothing wrong with that--we all do it, we all want to put our best face forward, we all want to make a good impression.

As I looked at my photo, I began to see all the ways in which it's actually not very flattering. The bags under my eyes, those protruding lines of my neck, the general paleness...I'm laughing about it now, but catch me on the wrong day and that picture could actually make me cry. It's not my most flattering picture. If I wanted to impress people, I might post this picture:



I have a beautiful dress on, great hair, and shadows on my face to hide the bags under my eyes! Well, sort of...

But that's not always how I look, obviously. I'm afraid to post a profile picture that really shows people how I look "at home", which is not always so flattering. Here's one my daughter snapped of me while I was playing with my son:



Yeah, not so great. I would never post that as my profile picture.

But, it is a picture of me; therefore, it is beautiful. Every picture of every person must be beautiful. We are beautiful in design, beautiful in how we move, beautiful when we are living. I just can't always see that.

My challenge for us today is to find unflattering pictures of ourselves and look at them until we find them beautiful. I don't care if it takes ten seconds or ten minutes--get to know yourself from all sides and angles, see the beauty of any shape and pose, and redefine what a "flattering" photo looks like. You don't have to go so far as to post one of these as your profile picture, but it might be freeing to do so eventually. Find a picture of yourself that makes you chuckle when you remember what was going on when it was snapped, and post it as a representation of a life-giving memory rather than as the face you want people to see.

But that might take some leading up to. For now, just have courage to look at those pictures which you usually pass over or hide behind others in the album. Stay with them until they are beautiful to you. When you get to this point, chances are good that you will finally be seeing them the way others do: without judgment.

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 4

Part of my routine every morning as I get dressed is to find a color thread and match it to as many aspects of my exterior as possible. If I wear a blue and brown shirt (one of my favorite color combinations), I have to line my eyelids with blue and brown. I have to find a pair of earrings that matches the shade of blue on my eyes and a pair of shoes with the exact brown hue I need. My head scarf…well, that’s the element that takes me the most time. I have to find a scarf that incorporates the colors I am already wearing. With the many prints I have, I often end up wearing a plain blue or basic brown. I don’t often get to wear my prints because they clash with my outfit. Occasionally, I choose the scarf first and an outfit to match!

My challenge for today is to choose articles of clothing, makeup, jewelry and other accessories that look and feel good…without matching each other. Mix it up. Wear two different patterns. Combine colors you would normally not put together. Wear your favorite pair of earrings regardless of whether or not they complement the outfit. Show off what you really have in your closet!
Have fun.

Send pictures to redefinelabelleza@gmail.com if you feel like sharing and inspiring others.

PS--I'm writing this post on Thursday night, so by mid-morning I will have posted a picture of my choice of expression for the day.

The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 3

Before I issue today's challenge, I need to admit something. I totally failed yesterday's. Looking in mirrors and windows is such a habit for me! I need to work on that. I don't mean that my goal is to never look in a mirror again; I just mean that I need to stop taking every opportunity to glance at myself. I mean, how much can my appearance really change in half an hour?

So one of the times I looked my reflection in a window today was at work. I was wearing high heels, and for some reason today they kept slipping off the backs of my heels. I had to develop a strange sort of waddle in order to keep them on without rubbing my skin raw on the outside of my big toes. I glanced in a window at work to make sure I didn't look like I was walking with a twisted ankle. I ended up taking my shoes off as soon as I got outside and walking barefoot through campus to the parking garage (outside of which I slipped them back on--I want to be comfortable, but I also want to be tetanus-free as long as I can).

Yep, there I was in a white ruffle blouse and khaki slacks...and bare feet. It felt amazing. This may be a new routine for me--waling to and from class with no shoes! I made a choice based on comfort rather than the reactions of society at large (or at least the students and construction workers whom I passed on my shoeless journey). It reminded me of a day last week when I had to apologize to my students for being unprofessional as I donned my jacket in class. It was just so frickin' cold in the classroom!

Today's challenge is to be comfortable. Take those heels off and walk flat-footed for awhile, no matter who's looking. Wear something frumpy to work (nothing that will get you fired, of course). Don't wear eye makeup if it makes your eyes itch. Wear comfy pants, shoes that fit, shorts that don't ride up, and bras that let you breathe. And relish the feeling of freedom that comes with making a choice for YOU!


(Image taken from www.shape.com)

You look...

"You look tired."

Really? I was feeling pretty good today, actually. Until now.

"Are you ok? You look upset."

Um, I was just thinking about whether to cook pasta or tacos for dinner.

"Hey, lighten up. You look like you're about to kill someone."

Nope, wrong again. Just enjoying the view out my window.



Why don't people ever tell me "You look like you're glowing today!" or "Wow, you look so refreshed!" Is it really that I look bad all the time, that I'm not getting enough sleep, that I have clinical depression and so cannot muster enough energy to keep a smile on my face? Or is it that the lines of my face were originally drawn in a certain shape, and it takes a lot to align them in a way that fits people's idea of what a "happy person" looks like? Yes, I feel down much of the time. But I also feel good and contented quite often. Yesterday I had a great class in the morning and I was feeling pretty good about the day, but then a colleague hit me with that first line: "You look tired." I did have a rough weekend, so maybe it takes more than a good morning to counteract the effects of two really hard days. Maybe now that I'm in my thirties, I can't spend a whole evening crying and expect my face to show no signs of it the next morning.

(The story of why I was crying is not relevant. No worries, it's nothing too serious. Just beating myself up over a mistake I made. I'm slowly getting over it.)

Okay, to satisfy your curiosity, this is my face when I am not thinking or feeling anything--just letting my face fall as it may:



Do I look mad? Depressed? Bored?

Here I am thinking about something irritating:



Hmm...not too different. It's funny, I just snapped these pics and didn't look at them too closely. It felt like I was really making an effort to show my irritation, but you can't really see that.

Okay, well here I am thinking of something light and happy:



See, again I really felt my smile muscles stretching. I totally felt like I had a big grin on my face, but it looks like a forced smile in this picture.

I am so afraid of being over-the-top, of people thinking that I'm trying to attract attention to myself, that I rein my expressions in to err on the side of masking my feelings. That, or I really do have the "flat affect" that is commonly seen in people with depression. It takes A LOT for me to show strong feelings on my face, no matter how I may be processing on the inside.

But is that okay? Do I need to walk around with a smile stretched across my face in order to make others feel more comfortable around me? The thought of that just exhausts me. Maybe someday, with therapy and medication, I will be able to break into a smile that can light up a room, or a scowl that makes my enemies scurry into hiding. For now, I'm just ho-hum me. I enjoy life enough. I make an effort to let people know that I am happy for them or hurting for them, and then I come home and crash from the sheer weight of my own face. That's a burden I have to live with right now.

What does your face tell the world?

Stains

This is one of my biggest pet peeves:



Stains. Especially on brand new clothes. Especially after pulling said clothes out of the dryer with the sinking realization that the stain I treated so carefully in the wash is now set in the fabric forever.

Stains really, really bother me. When my daughter was a baby, I lived in an apartment where the laundry room was in another courtyard, across a parking lot. I usually skipped the trip and washed my baby's clothes by hand in my tub. I got that Baby Oxyclean powder(amazing stuff!!) and soaked her onesies in a bowl on my kitchen counter, then scrubbed them with detergent in the tub, wringing them out for what seemed like hours before draping them over the drying rack by the back door. If I saw that a spit up stain (or worse) had not come all the way out, I repeated the whole process over again, adding even more Oxyclean and soaking the garment for even longer.

Those days are over, thank God.

Now I have a washer and dryer at my disposal, right in my kitchen! I can literally do laundry while taking a carton of ice cream out of the freezer. Not that I've ever done it.

I find that the convenience of having my own washer and dryer has really dampened the energy and motivation I once had for treating stains. That, and the acceptance I've had to muster as I watch my kids paint every surface of the house, our furniture, and their clothes with mango juice, yogurt, BBQ sauce, ketchup, salad dressing...you get the idea.

Oddly, stains from bodily excretions come out way easier than BBQ sauce. Well thank goodness for that.

Now that my kids are older and more active, I have dirt and grass stains to deal with along with food stains. I quickly saw the futility of trying to keep new kids' clothes pristine for any length of time. So, stained they come in and stained they go back out.

BUT...not only do they stain their clothes, they also have the audacity to give me a hug during dinnertime and get some greasy, oily substance on a shirt I happen to really love. I know, serves me right for wearing anything of any value to a dinner table where kids are present.

My immediate reaction when I pull a stained shirt of mine out of the dryer is to throw it in a bag destined for the thrift store donation center. I can't look sloppy, after all. By some twisted logic in my head, there are people out there who wouldn't mind looking sloppy and buying my stained shirt for a couple dollars.

Why am I so repelled by stains? If my husband has a stain on his shirt, I get totally grossed out. He doesn't mind wearing the same shirt in the evenings at home for a week or two straight. He knows the shirt is dirty, and he knows that attempting to keep it clean is a total waste of time for him. He knows I am the only person who will see it. For him, the shirt signifies play time, a relaxing evening at home after a day in Corporate Land, perpetual snacking, and freedom to be who he wants and spend time on things that matter.

For me, his shirt signifies mess. Unkempt, slovenly mess.

Why?! Stains don't hurt. They have stories. They are like scars, except the getting of them likely caused less pain.

I heard a sermon once about living "disposable" lives. Some of us are used to trashing that which is broken and replacing it with something new. Like a toaster or a pair of shoes. How many of us take the time to mend what is broken and continue allowing that object (relationship, self image, etc.) to keep its proper place in the world and function as it was meant to function? I feel like seeing stains on my clothing wouldn't repel me so much if I were the type of person who was comfortable with imperfection and conflict.

Instead, I can't focus on anything else once I have seen a stain. I can't rest until it's either cleaned or taken out of my house. Do I do the same thing with people?

I certainly see my own "stains" all too clearly. And I try to conceal them, or I live in the angst of wanting to trade in one "suit" for a new one. If I see a stain in someone else, that mark (not without its own story, mind you) can grow in my mind's eye and come to characterize that person. It can be hard to see around the stain and take in the whole person.

Well, I am daring myself to keep my stained clothing...and wear it out. Some might say this is disrespecting myself. I'm not planning to go out in total filth; I just want to free myself from the false perfection I hide behind when it comes to my clothing. I don't want to be so careful about keeping mess off of me, because mess is where life happens.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 21

“You should not worry about the dings and the dongs, they are nothing but echoes.” -- Corrie Ten Boom

She was writing about forgiveness. When we are bound by wrongdoing, it's as if a/the devil were pulling on a loud, clanging bell. Once we receive forgiveness, the rope is let go. Any bell-like noise we may hear from then on is just the echo as the bell stops its swinging, no longer given momentum by an outside force but swinging, nonetheless.

Well, I am going to misappropriate this quote tonight. Even though it is Ash Wednesday, I am not going to write about forgiveness--I hardly feel qualified.

Instead, I am going to write about a freedom that operates much the same way. Actually, I should say "freedoms", because each reader will relate in a different way. So different, in fact, that I can't exactly name this freedom. But hopefully you will recognize it.

Have you ever had an obsessive crush on someone? The kind that keeps you up at night and causes you to routinely go out of your way in the hopes of crossing that person's path? You cry every night from the pain of knowing (for whatever reason) that you will never be with that person. But you move on, slowly. Maybe that person disappears from your life for some reason. Whatever the case, whatever the time frame, one day you realize that you haven't thought about that person all day. And at some point, you realize that even if you ran into that person you would not depart their company with that painful longing. You would, and will, be fine.

Or have you ever lived with a fear that you couldn't shake? The kind of fear that weakens your heart and deprives you of sleep, sucks all enjoyment from life, and saps strength from your body? You worry and worry about this thing and it becomes your constant companion, even as it moves from the front of your mind to the back...and to the front again. But you seek help: prayer, medication, counsel of friends, whatever it may be. And you mature. And one day, you are confronted with the very thing you feared, only to find that the fear slipped off your shoulders at some point. And you are free.

There are countless other situations like this, where something has a hold of you for so long that you begin to reference it when you give self-identifying information. And the release from it can come on gradually, like that bell that continues to ring after the rope has been let go. We may still hear the echoes, but essentially we are free. We may slip and act like it still has us in its grasp, but only out of habit mostly.

Today I was driving to the post office during my lunch break and I realized that I was content. I realized that I was living in total freedom from a couple things that used to plague me. And it was such a beautiful feeling! I knew it was total freedom because the knowledge of being set free did not spark any feeling of bereavement or temptation to go back to a familiar way of living. Total freedom. If I'm lucky, maybe even the echoes will have died out this time.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 17

Tonight I rediscovered the beauty of laughter. I haven't really laughed in awhile. Not because my life is so sad, but because I simply got out of the habit. Less nights out with girlfriends, more nights in washing dishes, you know how it goes.

Well, tonight I enjoyed hearing my own laugh. And that in itself is a beautiful thing, because for years I have despised the way my laugh looks and sounds. Self-conscious through and through, I have always been afraid of people finding my horsey-mouth laugh unattractive. Horsey-mouth=big open mouth, lots of gums showing:




Okay, it's not that bad, really. But that's pretty much how I look in my head.

And you know what? That image has kept me from experiencing what I think might be called, in Biblical terms, "fullness of joy".

Well, tonight I laughed (admittedly, with one and only drink in me) and I loved the sound of it. And I didn't care what I looked like--mostly because I was in a dark corner of a restaurant.

Hey, it's a start.

Do you love your laugh?

(Photo seen at http://lauriegan.blogspot.com/2010/09/dont-look-gift-horse-in-mouth.html)

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 13

Today the beauty I want to share about is something I have not actually experienced yet. I'm hoping to get there soon--maybe you can help.

When you think of a beautiful woman on a beach, what do you see in your mind? This:
?

Or maybe this:
?

Almost certainly, you would not see anyone looking like this:



Long hair is critical to the image of a beautiful woman on the beach, isn't it?!

We tend to think in "types", or at least I do. The stages in my mind are set, and only characters who fit the description will be given parts. When I imagine what characters in my novels look like, my images are greatly influenced by the descriptions of the settings those characters are in. I might picture a cute blond with short, spiky hair if the scene I meet her in is a nightclub. If a woman is on horseback in the scene, then she has to have long hair billowing out behind her.

I guess these images must come from movies or book illustrations I was inundated with growing up. No matter--they're there, and they have so twisted my self image now, as a bald woman, that I have actually kept myself from doing things I know I would love because my "image" doesn't fit the scene in my mind. I will probably never allow my husband to dance with me if I am not wearing a wig or a long scarf I really feel feminine in. In my mind, a dancing couple is made up of a woman with hair falling down her back and a slightly taller man with his hand at the small of her back and his face half-buried in her hair, taking in her scent and her softness.



Well, I'm tired of defining myself by my so-called deficiency. I'm tired of saying "You can't walk on a beach/ride a horse/dance unless you have hair (i.e. "look like a woman").

The beauty I write about tonight is the beauty of re-imagining myself as a character in the scenes I have set in my mind. Here are a few shots of women in "scenes" I would never have imagined this way:










I hope I can see myself enjoying any opportunity life brings my way without worrying whether I'm what the director is looking for. I am the director of my own life, after all.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 12

Everything as it should be.

How does that phrase make you feel? Personally, I feel at peace. Some of you might feel bored, but this is for the people who read that and breathe a deep sigh of relief.

Today I woke up to more snow than I have seen so far this winter--and that's not saying much. This and last winter have been incredibly mild for the Chicagoland area. I haven't complained. It was wonderful to take my kids to a park after school in January because it was 60 degrees! It felt so healthy and life-giving. No, I didn't complain and I won't if it happens again.

BUT...this weekend my husband and I took our kids sledding, and today I tromped through several inches of snow and slush to and from (and to and from, over and over again) schools and work.

I hated it (well the sledding was fun, but the slogging and scraping is not). But because I am growing used to the idea of seeing beauty in unexpected places, that phrase popped into my head: "Everything as it should be."

It should be cold and nasty in Chicago in the winter, for heaven's sake! I don't like it, but there is something beautiful and right about kids bundling up to go sledding in February rather than picnicking in the park.

I say this because I grew up in Colorado. For readers who grew up in places like California and Saudi Arabia, "winter" means something totally different.

So take the general idea and apply it whatever you want. Where in your life can you see the beauty of "the natural order of things"? Where have things been off lately? Do you embrace sameness or change--or both equally?!

30 Days of Redefining Beauty: Day 3

Today's beautiful moment came as a revelation. I went to Zumba today, and I was feeling a bit uncoordinated. There were a lot of new moves and the instructor is an impossibly good dancer. We all pale in comparison. One woman in particular was making me chuckle. Her arms were flailing so spasmodically; I admit that I looked at her whenever I needed to feel better about my own attempt to recreate my instructor's moves (who, by the way, looks like Jennifer Lopez).

Speaking of J-Lo, when I got home I wanted to find a song by her that we danced to in class. I found the video on YouTube and was soon sinking lower in my chair as I watched her looking absolutely perfect, wishing I could just be her for one day. I can't believe I'm admitting this: after all this time writing about how to redefine beauty, I still want to look like Jennifer Lopez.

But as I watched the video, the absurdity of the life it portrays hit me. I could just see the hours she must have spent in hair, makeup and wardrobe. I laughed at the depiction of rich young rappers sitting by a pool with half-naked women lounging around all over the place.

And here's where the revelation occurred: I realized I would rather be in a room full of housewives and moms, flailing their arms and laughing at how they couldn't keep up with the mambo steps, then having to do twenty takes of the same hip roll until it looked sexy enough. I would rather be comfortable in my lounge pants than have to parade around in skinny jeans because I was expected to. Sexiness all of a sudden feels like a lot of work, and I have decided I really like the freedom to look how I look!

It was a beautiful revelation.

Have you had any revelations today?