Pretty please

Earlier today my sister (in law) said she needed to get her nails done.

She said she needed something to make her feel like a woman....

While I am totally familiar with the thought of not feeling quite as feminine as you could or should, I found it strange that she would say it.

Later on that day it dawned on me.  She didn't just need a manicure, she needed to feel pretty   She mentioned that when my brother used to always tell her she's pretty. And while she never took him seriously, it obviously made its impact on her.   In fact, it is one the many things I liked best about him. Sometimes when I was visiting we would be out somewhere shopping or hanging out, he would look at her and say to me " Isn't my wife pretty"? I don't know about most of you but I happen to be very partial to my sister in law, not only is she a good person, she is beautiful.  She may never understand how he really felt but I knew. In those moments I could see her through his eyes, I felt his love for her.  Even though he isn't here, his words are still in my mind.  I miss him and  I miss those things he said about her and to her.  I can only imagine how much she misses him saying them too.

My sister (in law) have always been friends.  We have a common thread, we are both "middle only girls" me of two boys, she of four.  While this may seem like an ideal position in a family of boys, it is not the utopia imagined. We may be daddy's girl (by default there's no competition) but neither of us grew up believing ourselves to be the pretty princess of the family. Never spoiled or coddled, we at times fought to show our brothers we deserved respect. We were called rough or tomboy, never pretty or princess.

But life has a way of making it up to you.  She married a man who loved her and believed her to be the prettiest woman in the world.

It my forty seven years it is not often that I have been told I'm pretty much less believe the mouth that it came from except dad (who could be partial) But a word said from the right person at the right time means so much more than when thrown casually around.  She had that once and now it's gone. My heart aches at the thought that he is no longer here to say the things that she needs to hear. So  now, my nephews and I  do what my brother no longer can.  We make her feel loved.

It's only human to want to be loved, appreciated and on occasion told that you are pretty (yes men too!) we all need to know that someone sees us in a way we don't see ourselves, we need admiration, confirmation and sometimes convincing that we, in our imperfect state, are indeed lovable. We need to be told that we are smart, sexy, intelligent, funny, pretty (handsome) and sometimes even beautiful.

The power of being told you are pretty is real.  Just as deep and meaningful as love.  Next time you have a chance, use your power. Give a girl a gift.  Tell her she's pretty.

All I Have Is Me

This morning while on the train I used my idle time to scan my Facebook  page.  Normally there aren't that many new posts to view at 7 am but I was surprised to find a re-post of a video post by a man named  KHARI called "Wonderfully Made"  The video is a montage of photos of beautiful plus size women, set to a the background of KHARI's poetry. He uses some powerful words to describe what he feels for wemon and how we have allowed our self-esteem to suffer under the noses of those who think that we should look a certain way to be happy about ourselves.  Since, just the other night I was tripping over my weight loss, this video came right on time.  

I felt encouraged by his words of love for women, not because of what they look like but because of who they are.  His words made me want to cry. But now as I reflect on the images, I have to admit,, I felt uncomfortable,  Every image I saw represents me, I am that woman with the full lips and wide hips, stretch marks and round belly.  

This man is telling me to love the body I'm in with all its "flaws"?  The stretch marks and all? I don't hate myself, but there are the times when I find it difficult to  love myself as much as I should.  It's hard to love the fat when society says I shouldn't.  Dont get me wrong, I'm trying to love the skin I'm in, Sometimes the rebel in me says screw society, but the little girl in me wants to be accepted. Somewhere in my life the indoctrination ofthe idea that what I am, what I look like, fat... is nothing to be happy about, I should feel ashamed. And truthfully there are times when I do.

Now that I've lost the some of weight, you think I'd be content.  But I'm not.  It seems like I've become like everyone else, walking past the mirror thinking ugh!!.   Yes, I've lost weight but I'm not satisfied.  I don't like the saggy and  flabby skin that seems to have a mind of its own.  when I think of all the years I spent stuffing myself, I want to cry.  But what can I do, the past is gone and THIS is the only body I have.  Its all mine... FOR LIFE.  I may not always be happy about it, but I don't want to spend the time I have left complaining pinching, and pulling myself apart for not being fat-free.

For the past two years, I've been so consumed with reaching that numeric goal that I never considered that weight loss really has nothing to do with loving yourself.  Just because you have fat on your body does not mean you hate yourself or vice versa.  Yes we all have bad days when our esteem is in the toilet for some reason or other but we dont live in the that toilet, We live in the real world.where some days the sky just isnt all that blue, but at some point (sometimes with a little medication) it gets better.

I sometimes like to fancy that I could that woman who could embrace her fat, but theres always that little voice that says "not yet"  so until I reach that state of contentment (if there is such a place) Ill keep trying.  I certainly know it will be healthier in the long run, so really what have I got to lose.

So moving forward into 2016 I plan to show my stretch marks a little more love.  Im sure as I lose more weight Ill notice more of my little squiggly friends jiggling back at me.  But instead of complaining, im going to take the time to be gracious that im a lot healthier than I used to be and with time and little woo woo woo'ing I might convince the little girl in me that the only person that she needs to worry about accepting her is me.