Thursday, February 28, 2013

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall......"

I wish my hair was darker, brown, wavy.  I wish my skin was tanned and I had only a few freckles.  I am ugly.  I hate the way I look.  I hate myself.

Do you hate every thing about yourself?

I hate everything except, except, except..... my feelings.  I like my feelings.  I think my friends like me for my feelings.    They are just pretending that they like my looks.

You are actually beautiful.  People often tell me - even complete strangers - how they love your hair and wish they had hair your colour, how much they would have to pay at the salon to look like you.  You are beautiful.

I don't believe you.

                                                                     . . . . .

This is a conversation from this morning with my just-turned-nine-year-old daughter.  It fills me with a helpless despair.  This young girl so beautiful & unique who wants to look like the beauty she sees around her - her dark haired cousin, her blond curly haired best friend, perhaps the images of Taylor Swift she sees on album covers - rather than the beauty looking back at her in the mirror.  A fragile self-image.  A fragile age.

I love that she recognizes that what is inside - "her feelings" - are valuable, acceptable, lovable.  Her inner self will not be subject to criticism.  She is funny, feisty, smart and sweet.

Should she ever begin to switch those sentiments - inner loathing mixed with vanity -  I suppose we would be faced with something more challenging than her dissatisfaction with her looks.  But I wish  she could see her beauty inside and out.  I wish she did not spend a single moment despairing about her freckles or reddish hair, her blue-grey eyes, her fantastic dimple.  If I continue to tell her every single day that she is gorgeous will she ever start to believe it??

Has she ever been told otherwise??

1 comment:

Megan said...

You forgot her contagious laugh! I love to hear it.