The Scars of Ugliness

I am tired of hating my body. I have as long as I can remember. It drags on my heart and fills me with fear of utter rejection.

I've walked with this skin for 34 years and in that time never really loved it like it deserves. I could always find flaws and after having my son, they weren't hard to spot. After him everything with my body changed for what felt like the worst. The stuff of nightmares to a woman. 16 years I've tried to love this new version of my body. 16 years all I could do was hate it. Stretch marks, lose skin, new dips, and sagging plagued me. When someone touched me, Id pull back without thinking. Id instinctively suck my stomach in to avoid their fingers grazing my most hated area. Id twist myself to make sure only the "good" spots got exposed. Id deny myself that touch in order to preserve some false notion my physical imperfections could be ignored. If I acted like they weren't there maybe they'd disappear. They didn't. 

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But should they be ignored? Should I be so desperate to hide so much of myself? Should I be so afraid to really be seen? Should I even want those that would reject me for these flaws? I know the expected answer, what I should say or feel; don't hide, let it go, forget those that dont accept you, love your body. But that's not what my mind screams. That's not what my heart does. Instead I've lived in a place of resentment and loathing for my body. It has made me believe I wasn't worthy of love or praise. Its caused me to hide, cover, and avoid. Other times I've over compensated for what felt like a lack. So much of my life is being seen without showing anything. 

We as women are constantly reminded of how we look. It's a societal norm to focus on a womans appearance. And its harshly judged. All women have a desire in our hearts, given to us by God, to be lovely, beautiful, captivating. We crave to know someone sees that in us. But the standard we're given to live up to often makes us feel less. Brings shame instead of empowering us to be beautiful as we are. But our skin, our faces, our bodies isnt where the beauty should be found. It should be our hearts, our character, our values, our minds. And yet we beat ourselves up for not living up to an unrealistic expectation. Its sad. It tears us apart. And it ruins intimacy. 

Something as small as a stretch mark has become a pivotal point of pain and suffering for me. But why? Because it doesn't match some accepted version of beauty? You definitely wont find many flaunting their tears and sags in most magazines. Is a societal definition of sexy so engraved in my mind that I literally hate my own unique skin? Yes it is. Because I do.....But I don't want to. It's exhausting. It hurts. Its heavy and restricting. Its like chains keeping me bound to an irrational fear of being unlovable. Why? Because of some skin? Is that who I want to be? For myself, for my daughters? Its really not. And realizing, writing, about that place in my heart is the first step to stopping the cycle of destruction. Its tearing me apart and I see that now. 

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As I've been learning this about myself I've noticed something strange. When I walk through my room past the, usually cruel dresser mirror, I don't cringe anymore. I stopped flinching when I'd pass it coming out of the shower. I don't walk faster to get by it quickly. As a matter of fact, I've even caught myself slowing down. I don't seem to hate what I see as much. Something in that reflection is..... interesting.... its ... dare I say, beautiful. What I've realized is this body of mine, its real. It's authentic. Its my story not my identity. My scars are not a punishment but a reminder of my strength. Of the life I have given this world. Of the gift of motherhood and triumph. 

I didn't expect this lesson right now. As we've all sheltered in place and fought our way through these though times the focus has been on other things. Things that seemed more important like tackling depression and anxiety. Or learning to be patient. I didnt understand why my body would be something to worry about. It seemed trivial compared to the grander lessons to be learned. So why now? Why is this so important? 

Luke 10:27 says He answered, "love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and love your neighbor as yourself". Love others as you love yourself.... Well what if you don't love yourself completely? I realized part of my growth in this place is self love. Over the years walking with God I've learned to love my quarks, my humor, my mind. I've learned to embrace being a lot, having big emotions, and being sensitive. I've learned my strength and my resilience. But never my body. It was the secret shame I hid away hoping it would somehow disappear. It was the one thing I didnt want to look at because it hurt. It scared me. It was a place of vulnerability I didn't want to tackle. But if im to truly love myself that means all of me. Even the "ugly" parts. If im to learn more of who I am in God I need to let go of the hurt. This body of mine didnt betray me as I've believed. Looking to the world for beauty did. My body didnt cause shame. Unrealistic standards did. I did. By believing the lie that I needed to have a perfect figure, a flatter stomach, bigger boobs, or thinner thighs to be worthy. By allowing something as small as a scar or mark to make me feel unlovable. 

So today I say no more. Today I let go of the idea I cant be beautiful or even sexy because of my flaws. Today I repent to myself and to God for believing I am not enough, not beautiful, as I am. Today I set myself free from shame and suffering from something as trivial as skin. Today I start to love this body. Im not always going to get it right. Im not always going to find comfort in that dresser mirror. But I want to try. I want to love myself, all of myself. Even the parts that seem unlovable. I want to find safety in a touch instead of fear. I want to find beauty even in the imperfections. I want to let go of an ideal and embrace what is real. I want to let myself be seen to those that deserve it and not hesitate. I want freedom to really love all of me. I am enough. I am lovable. I am beautiful. Stretch marks and all. And maybe in that place, I can love others more. Maybe something as small as learning to love my body will in fact make me more like Jesus. That's the goal after all.