The Product of a Cover Girl Environment

My friend Sarah didn't wear makeup or jewelry for 2 months to help her realize that her beauty and worth does not come from outward adornment but through her worth in Christ Jesus. I really wanted to do that too. Actually I really don't want to do it but God told me I have to. She said it brings freedom though, and I want freedom. I am afraid but I am committed. I know it will be hard for me and I don't know why. I guess I have always been the pretty girl and if I am not pretty than what am I? Where does true beauty come from? I know where but I am not willing to acknowledge it at this time. I wonder who will still think I am pretty when I am not all painted. Will boys still hug me and tell me I am beautiful? Will the little girls at camp still look up to me and tell me I am pretty? And why do I care about any of these things? The following is part of my journey in written word.

Day 7
I have found myself bargaining with God, promising to feed the poor and devote the rest of my life to widows and orphans for a little bit of concealer and some eyebrow-slicker-downer. I am embarassed about how difficult this last week has been for me. How much I base my self worth on my appearance. How I know better than to worry about these things, and yet I do. How hard I am on myself and how that is one of the first things that a lot of people notice when they start getting to know me. Sarah said doing this would bring me freedom. Right now I think I am just starting to acknowledge the fact that a prison cell exists in the first place. The name of the prison is vanity and insecurity.

Day 15
I am feeling less and less beautiful as the days go by. I think this must be part of a refining process. Every morning at work I go into the little girls' room and stand in front of the mirror during their cabin cleanup to make sure they are doing a good job. I stand under bad flourescent lighting that makes me look much older than I am. You can see the dark circles under my eyes that I usually hide with lots of concealer. They come from being very tired. From crying late at night from my still very broken heart. From worry about the future. From allergies I inherited from my mother. My skin is broken out and I feel like all people see are the imperfections. That is all that I can see. My cheeks feel naked without the sparkly danglies that usually adorn them. But it is nice to not have to wake up 15 minutes earlier. I don't feel like I have to look perfect or put together. I have been on time to work a lot more lately. Getting dressed is easier. I usually stick with the first outfit I put on. But I don't know if this comes from resignation and apathy or a slow acceptance of the lessons God is teaching me through all of this. I thought this would be getting easier by now but I still have plenty of thoughts that I probably shouldn't have when I look in the mirror. I never thought I was that girl. I don't like being that girl.

Day 20
Things are getting better, I don't worry as much about people thinking I am an ugly duckling. I know they probably don't but I have a hard time believing the postive things people say to me. That sounds really bad to say it out loud but this article I am writing needs to be real and honest. Brutally honest. Sometimes just brutal. I feel like I am not really learning that much about my inner beauty or developing more self-confidence or any of the other things that I thought would have come by this time. I am over half way done on my 40 day battle of epic proportions. I don't think as much about blowing the whole thing but it definitely comes to mind more often than I would like to admit. I feel like it doesn't fit sometimes, I am dressed up but my face is not dressed up. It feels a little raw and misplaced. Being in the South last week was interesting. Atlanta is a lot like LA when it comes to image and fake tans and fake boobs and lots of make-up and designer expensive clothes. The big difference though is not everyone is as health conscious so they are all very overweight and most of them smoke. I know I don't belong in the ATL so it didn't really bother me that much. I don't feel like I have to be as pretty as my sister anymore. My nieces think they are fat and worry about going to the grocery store without eyeliner on because God forbid there might be a cute food bagger. It hurts my heart and I wonder if they got any of that from me.