This morning as I was putting on my warpaint, ready for another warrior day, I was mulling over my imperfections.
I have quite a few.
Some days I have more and some days I have less but there are quite a few nevertheless.
Some are like old friends, they never leave me, always there through thick and thin.
When the going gets tough, those less-than-perfects parts of me come to the fore, they sit on my shoulder and keep up a ongoing dialog, all-knowing and very confident.
Normally, I either try and fix the problem – lose the pounds, try a new makeup, get a consultation – or just ignore them.
But today, because I’m in this just-do-it-punk-rock phase, I decided to argue back.
I always get on with my friends so this was a major departure for me but you know, it was revealing.
Here is how it went.
(Warning: this was shocking for me to write and therefore may be shocking to read; you will learn something about me that possibly you’d rather have not…)
I am hairy.
Yes, it is true. Legs, arms, face, toes.
Bane of my life.
I’ve shaved, creamed, plucked, trimmed and waxed; and probably a few more things that I can’t remember.
Thankfully for me (and frankly, everyone else) I am blonde so I tell myself that no-one notices – a common tactic I employ when time, money, or energy run out trying to deal with a problem.
But every so often I fixate on it and feel, when people are talking to me, all they are noticing is the fact that I haven’t plucked my eyebrows for a week.
So today, instead, I decided to look at how hairy benefits me.
Give it a positive spin, you know?
Now, I can’t come up with a long list but I did come up with one huge, good thing from being a hairy woman: long eyelashes.
I have long brown eyelashes with fair tips. I mascara them within an inch of my life and often look like I’ve walked into two spiders webs simultaneously and picked up a couple of eight-legged equally hairy things along the way.
But I wouldn’t have them if I didn’t have long arm hair, now would I?
Another imperfection: short legs.
It also means that while I am reasonably tall, I have thick thighs and stubby (as well as stubbly) calves.
I also have knees that deserve their own weigh-in.
So this morning, when I admired myself in the full length mirror and heard that little voice telling me I have short legs, I retorted that because I have this body type with these imperfect legs, I have nice shoulders.
Which are near my face.
Which is what I want people to be looking at, right?
If I didn’t have short, stubby legs and fat knees, I might not have such nice shoulders and people would look down instead of up. So it’s good I have these legs, right?
It was very liberating, this argument.
Energy I would have spent trying to fix the problem, I spent bounding off to my day. Just by seeing the positive.
Can you pick one thing that bothers you and turn it around? Right now. Let me know in the comments!
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