As a mother and my own mother’s child, I think I still
struggle with a few insecurities. When I was younger, I felt real insecure
about my weight. As a competitive long distance runner, I had long legs and was
very lanky. If I were to lay down, I would be as flat a pancake. There was
nothing extraordinary about me except that I had very smooth, beautiful skin
and thick, healthy hair.
I looked at my peers and noticed how the other girls in
school were blossoming all around me. I was constantly told my time would come.
At 14, my time was finally coming, but I had no hips, and I was still the great
friend, no one’s girlfriend. The guys who liked me weren’t the kind I’d ever
consider; plus, we weren’t allowed to date anyway.
Back then, if plastic surgery was as big as it is now, I’d
probably have gotten a job, apart from working the family business, in order to
afford breast and butt implants. I would probably have found some way to get
something added to my hips, so I’d look more curvaceous. I’d probably have included
permanent eye brows to hide my naturally scanty brows, and to enhance my
naturally nice pucker, I would probably have considered permanent lipstick.
Last, but certainly not least, I may have researched permanently straightening
my hair without the use of relaxers. With all those changes, I’m sure my
14-year-old self would have been quite confident and happy with herself.
However, fast forward 20+ years, I realize how much I would
have regretted those changes if they had been available to me then, knowing who
I am now. Uhh…I’m no Beyonce or JLo, but I’m pretty satisfied with how I look,
apart from what my doctor has told me I can’t change, no matter how many
crunches I do.
Don’t get me wrong…if someone offers to pay for my abdominoplasty
from a reputable doctor, I’m totally okay with that, if that means I can get my
abs to look like they did when I was 29. In fact, I wouldn’t turn down a Mommy
Makeover, as I wouldn’t mind some lifting. BUT other than that, I’m pretty
content with what I look like, adult acne and all.
I think if we truly keep it real, there’s something each of
us struggles with. It may be something ridiculously obvious or something that
bothers us that most people can’t even see if we don’t point it out ourselves.
I find it interesting how as a parent, I drill it into my children’s heads that
they are “fearfully and wonderfully made”, yet I myself convince myself that I once
was, but somewhere between childbearing and leaving the workforce, I’m no
longer as wonderful as I used to be. Whereas, my husband still thinks I’m
pretty hott reminding me that he knows how hard I work at eating right,
exercising, and taking care of my God-given body. Yet, like so many, it doesn’t
make me feel any better.
“Botched” is one of those shows I just can’t get enough of,
and I think it further confirms what I stated – we all seem to struggle when it
comes to our appearance. The heartbreaking part to me is when people take it to
extremes. Sometimes I watch and wonder where a person’s mom is to say, “You
know what…you may think looking like a caricature will make you happy but think
of the future. One day, at 60, that may not be your idea of beauty, and by
then, the aging process may take what looks great now and transform it to
something rather scary.”
We sometimes are dissatisfied with ourselves, how we look
and don’t consider our future, or the people we will bring into this world who
will enter our world thinking they aren’t enough. They may think they have to
change something, because they look nothing like the person who birthed them
due to the numerous changes they have made to themselves. I know Justin Jedlica,
the human Ken doll, states that “standards of beauty change,” questions why we
need to commit to the human form, and mentions that he chooses to express his
creativity through plastic surgery, but at what point does it stop? At what
point do we say enough is enough?
The media already provides us with a distorted idea of what
true beauty is, whether photoshopping a woman with cellulite/varicose veins/stretch
marks, or touting plastic women as the epitome of true beauty. How will we ever
feel satisfied with who we are and what we can accomplish if we’re too busy
striving to be something other than who we were created to be?
Justin Jedlica, I disagree with you. Over 100 surgeries,
$250k in work, removing the veins in your forehead, and more work to come
screams insecurity and discontentment, not confidence and creativity. I’m no judge,
but when will we ever be truly happy with ourselves, including myself?
I guess the day someone gets their butt transferred to their
face in hopes of a fuller look, we may then consider THAT going too far and see
it as a cry for help.
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