Some time ago I wrote a post about beautiful imperfections. Recently, my thoughts are travelling along a similar path.
There are some fairly well-defined traditional ideas about what is beautiful: blondeness, being thin with big boobs, sunny days, lush green grass, orange sunsets, spotless cars, rhyming words, clear skin, a straight nose, big blossoming flowers, manicured lawns, copperplate handwriting, the list is endless.
But, as I look out of my kitchen window, my lawn is sprouting dandelions, the veg patch is weed-filled, it’s rained and the lupins are bedraggled. And me? I’m skinny with zero boobs, dirty brownish curly hair that tends to frizz, freckles, and massive calves, I talk too much, judge too easily, say the wrong thing and hide how hurt I can be.
However, my garden is beautiful to me. The bees are happy, the birds are hopping about and the raindrops on leaves sparkle to my eyes. The grey, cool weather provided me with a lovely run, cool and much more enjoyable than in the glaring sun.
So today, I’m reflecting on the positives that don’t fit traditional ideas about beauty and perfection. Those differences are beautiful too.
I love my curls and my freckles. I’m loyal and forthright and fierce when I need to be. Those are good things on the flip side.
Tell me how you are differently beautiful, celebrate yourself.