Ok, I have never, I mean never shown these pictures to anyone other than my bff’s, my hubby (who laughed) and of course, my mother. I decided to show them to my 5 year old son because we’re working on a school memory book much like the one I have with these pictures in it. I am about to show them to the world of cyber space. Deep breath. Ok, here we go.
Grade 2: Ok, who didn’t have a missing front tooth and bottle glasses at this age, right?…. right??
Grade 3: I told you I had buck teeth. Here I now have bottle glasses AND buck teeth. Score.
Grade 6: Pre-braces. I started liking boys at this age. You can imagine how that went…
Grade 7: my first year of middle school, a.k.a. worst years of my life. I was “Connie Chunk”… with braces.
Grade 8: good news: the braces are off! Bad news: is anyone else seeing my life in school is clearly not getting any better? I used to beg God to make me beautiful..
Grade 9: instead He made me “cute”. Look at those cheeks. And yes, the hair is a sign of the 80′s. Oh ya.
Grade 10: noticed any similarities between grade 9 and 10? I learned to smile with my mouth closed. I was too embarrassed to show my teeth.
Grade 11: embracing the smile regardless.
Grade 12: Funny story with my grad picture; I was tubing and my eye rammed into my friends chin, thus leaving me with a blue eye just in the lid therefore bringing on the blue eyeshadow in full force on other eye. I’m thankful it’s not noticeable. On the other hand, the early 90′s hair is beyond help.
My college graduation. I’m the white girl.
What do you say to someone homely like me? ”You’re fearfully and wonderfully made”, right? The “fearful” part may be on the right track…
All kidding aside, growing up I knew I was homely. I knew my buck teeth and chubby appearance didn’t “meet the standard”. Well meaning people with their “fearfully and wonderfully” encouragement were sweet people, but I couldn’t believe them. After all, Seventeen magazine told me otherwise. Even if I wanted to believe what God said was true, I wasn’t open to His opinion. I wanted theirs.
I’m ashamed to admit that looking at my pictures with my son made me shudder. I found myself thinking, “YIKES, what an ugly child!” You know the ones I speak of. How many times have we seen a homely baby or child and thought it. We clearly have been discipled by media well.
If you’re looking for an answer or a profound statement in this blog, I don’t have one other than this question: What were you thinking as you looked through my pictures? Did you shudder like I did? (no offence taken if you did). My thoughts revealed to me I clearly have issues with what beauty is and was created to be. Even a culture rebel like myself still doesn’t get it.
But I want to.
I’m committed to the process of being discipled by something greater than media. It’s a daily (sometimes hourly) switch of the mind and heart. Whatever I see and hear the most wins my heart over. I need to guard what my heart sees for hope of any change in my thinking.