Seeing With The Heart

I always hated getting ready for things. Anything at all would be this big thing about how the clothes fit, the accessories, too much cleavage (which, with chesticles like mine is a frequent concern) and a myriad of other things that, usually by the time I got to where I was going, didn't matter. It was always an ordeal further stressed by my body issues; stretch marks (are they showing?), scars (are they showing too?) and weight (does it make me look fat?). I'm like every other woman when I put on a pair of jeans and pray that the muffin top doesn't ruin the whole outfit. Or I used to be.

Today I woke up with a purpose; I've got a lot of things going on. I've got to go toss my school like a salad set some things straight with my school and their lack of acknowledgement of anything that needs to be said until the money is due (which is extremely trifling to a jobless college student). I have to turn in a resume or two. I have an impromptu interview with a Sprint manager. I'm kind of about my business right now.

I woke up with bad hair. Now, regular haired, or completely relaxed women can just pop on a hat or a ponytail and call it a day. My hair though, with it's tendrils in some places, curls in others and otherwise lack of cohesion refused to be fully tamed. Instead of freaking out, I let it do what it wanted to do with a few hindrances to mimic a style. It looks great.

I haven't lost weight, but the weight I have seems to be distributing in other places. What I mean is, my stomach, which used to seems so huge to me, has flattened out. My hips though, have spread a bit. My thighs are bigger; the girls too. I've been taking care of myself by eating healthier, and living healthier. Don't get me wrong; I hate to sweat so exercise makes me roll my eyes, but I'm not allergic to walking or lifting. Simple things like taking the stairs instead of the escalator, oranges instead of doughnuts, and stretching while reading have made my body more mine rather than just a thing that holds me.

George and W have been telling me equally that I need to find love for myself; I seem to have such love and acceptance for others, such forgiveness of faults with them, but not for myself. I've been doing a lot of digging to find that little nugget in me; that fearless, confident and fiery piece that I seemed to have lost somewhere along the tumbles of my life. Now that I've found it, nothing is going to take it away. Life's better with confidence and faith; somethings I'm no longer in short supply of.

By learning to take care of myself I learned to appreciate all the good parts of me, almost to the point that the bad no longer matters. I still have stretch marks, and scars, and all those other things, but in the scheme of things, when looking at me, I don't see them much anymore. Instead I see strength, I see femininity, I see flirtatiousness. I see me. And it feels like it took forever to make the connection that the person I see in the mirror is not even half of the person I truly am.

The muffin top maybe under the shirt, but the truth of the matter is, nobody's noticing it; they're too busy admiring my spirit, my cheerful disposition, and all of the other things I have going for me other than my looks.* Sometimes I forget that it's not always what we see but what we feel. Just like with faith in a God, or hope for a better future, what we see in front of us might be bleak or not up to our standards, but that doesn't stop us from believing, it doesn't stop us from seeing something better with our hearts.

Spreading love
Dropping knowledge
Learning in the process <3

*Addendum: That's not an excuse to be sloppy though. Take pride in yourself!*