I was flipping through a magazine while lounging in my tub, and I thought I'm not sure that this is the greatest place to be viewing beautiful people. After all, all I had to do was glance down at myself to see that I didn't measure up to the magazine ads that were sprawled across the glossy pages. At first, when I looked myself over I started to see my flaws, the things I wish I had the willpower to fix, but then I thought how sad is that? I'm not going to do that to myself today. I thought I am beautiful, every square inch of me. I can either pick myself apart in here, then hop out of the tub, and feel lousy about myself the rest of the day, or I can think I'm pretty lucky to be me. I decided that I would run with the second.
I quickly tossed the wet magazine on to the linoleum, and thought about how old I was, and who I have become. I could never see myself at 35, when I was a little girl, it just seemed too old to envision. However, I'm not THAT bad. Yes, I have some gray hair, and when I smile I have wrinkles beside my eyes. And why shouldn't I? I smile and laugh a lot, my family and friends will vouch for that. I thought about my skin. Its not as flexible and smooth as it once was, but again I have seen some amazing days in the warm sun and cool water. I wouldn't trade those summer days and memories for anything. I thought about how my stomach has always been my best attribute, but its not as tight as it once was, but I've had five amazing babies living in there. Beat that!
This doesn't mean that I shouldn't get on my treadmill and walk an efficient mile today, but I'm gonna do it because I deserve it, not because I'm ugly and I don't deserve to feel pretty. I read somewhere that men aren't as picky as women are of each other. I thought that HAS to be true! Den makes me feel so pretty. I think he still thinks I am, but for different reasons. He's not in love with my pouty lips when I'm angry, or how bouncy and shiny my hair is while I'm cooking dinner, no he loves me for all the right reasons. He loves my laugh and smile. He loves when I'm happy and I walk a little lighter while holding hands. He loves when I'm standing by the stove and fixing him dinner, because he works so hard. He loves me when I'm rocking a sick baby and I say, "I don't mind." He loves when I'm playing a game on the floor with the boys and I am laughing at their silly antics. He doesn't miss my tight beautiful skin that I had when I was seventeen, but he would miss my smile, laughter and happiness, and I am at the age to recognize that. I want to look as good as I can, but I also know that how you feel about yourself can go further than Covergirl can.