Confessions on Beauty, Prejudice, and Self-Love.

I feel so stressed, and I don't have a great reason. I'm behind on writing, behind on work. I'm overwrought, and my head hurts. My neck is tight. And my face still hurts; damn acne--swollen lumps on my chin, jaw, and neck. I feel ugly these days. 

Both Bruce and my mom said I looked pretty in the photos from my reading, but those seem like consolation compliments, things you'd say to someone who normally isn't attractive. That's silly projecting, though. I can't expect anyone but Josh to tell me I'm pretty. 

I'm projecting my own pettiness and prejudice, my childhood insecurities that say that people with extra weight, with pimples, or with glasses can't be attractive. When I was very little, I thought people who were "fat" couldn't get married because no one would love them! How messed up is that?! Where did it come from? My couple of years in public school? Something in preschool? 

I'm ashamed to admit those thoughts. I'm sharing them only because I can't be the only one. I guess it's only fair that I am chubby, have glasses, and have acne. Really, those thoughts were warnings to myself: I can't be attractive. It doesn't mean anyone else has the same thoughts, except maybe (like me) about themselves. It doesn't even mean I think it about other people. I've been attracted to Josh regardless of acne or extra weight when he's had them, and I love his glasses. I know he is attracted to me; he demonstrates that, though not so much right now because I'm sick. I don't need anyone else to think I'm an attractive person. 

Do I need to think it about myself? As an adult, I haven't often been self-conscious or concerned with what others think when they look at me, but I've been embarrassed lately. I stopped wearing foundation a couple of years ago, but now, I'm wearing concealer again. I know the acne is hormonal, and the weight is probably hormones plus medication. I also don't like my hair right now at its awkward length. Recently, one of my front teeth broke. I got it fixed quickly, but that was another source of embarrassment even though almost no one saw it. 

Is it all punishment for some vanity of which I've been unaware? I've usually felt comfortable with my appearance as an adult. But now, I don't feel like I even recognize myself physically. I need to grow out my hair, lose the rest of this weight, and go to the dermatologist. OTC skincare isn't cutting it. 

I don't want to devalue myself because I don't feel pretty. I don't owe the world physical beauty. My writing is beautifully dark and strange...or beautifully luminous. My worth is inherent. But I am struggling. 

I've struggled with self-love for a few years before these bodily insecurities. I believed certain things about myself, as a person, a wife, and a writer. It turned out others had different perceptions, and this really threw me. I started to wonder if I knew myself at all, and I started to think there wasn't much to like. 

I've made some efforts to shore up my self-love, but I need to do that now more than ever. A couple of books have helped me: A Year of Self-Motivation for Women and A Year of Self-Love. I'm currently reading A Year of Self-Esteem straight through. The books have brief quotations, reflections, prompts, and affirmations. As I go through them, I write down my own affirmations right there in the book. 

The great aspect of affirmations is that you don't have to believe them to use them! You train your mind to believe them and therefore live and embody them. We do this all the time: shape our beliefs, perceptions, and behaviors. Well, often, we let others do it for us. I want to take more control. I want to focus on and enhance the good.

I am beautiful. I have enchanting eyes, strong legs, and striking coloring. I have a distinct style. I carry myself with assurance. I am poised and elegant. I am open to the beauty in myself and others. I am memorable.

I don't have to be flawless to be beautiful...or to be good.

Word of the Year 2025.

It's the new year! So much work is done...so much joy, work, and wonder to come! A whole set of seasons, holidays, and occasions. I'll even turn 40 this year! I'm excited. 

I'm wearing the blue fleece snowflake pajamas I bought to wear on Christmas Eve. Josh is next to me on the pink velvet loveseat in the study. He's looking at donations to the justice center as people gear up for coming changes and reach out to help. As the masses turn their backs, I hope to see individuals making eye contact with those who need it and with us.

I'm writing this early--6:30 a.m. We've been up for a while. We're used to rising early, especially lately, even though we've been away from school and work. I like the hush of morning, punctuated by Oliver's joyous exclamations and his leaps on the hardwood. Josh will go back to work tomorrow, but we'll still have the early mornings together.

I spent a lot of yesterday cleaning up and organizing. Our room is all fresh for the new year. I washed all our bedding too. My pink velvet snowflake comforter isn't going anywhere until spring. I've loved snowflakes since I was 12. I hung paper ones in the big window of my room then. Now, I have them hanging--blue, white, clear, and silver--in the open doorway between the study and the foyer. I once had a tiny room of my own in which they hung from the ceiling. But I am much happier now than I was then. Now, every room feels like mine, ours, not someone else's.

I didn't reflect much yesterday. I was busy doing laundry and clearing clutter. I made lists of the books I want to read on Kindle and Audible. I filled my turquoise cart with hardcopy books I want to read in 2025. I gathered trash to go out to our overfull bin (we missed trash day last week as we were out of town). I sorted and put away the earrings that had accumulated on the glass dish on the pink bookcase that holds my favorite books. I hung up clothes and cleaned out my nightstand drawer. I added pens to the pink case that holds all my pens for the new year--the first couple of months, anyway. I selected a Bordeaux Gelly Roll Moonlight for today. I made a massive to-do list on a large pad that says Today Is the Day in rainbow letters. Many of the entries are for joyful tasks, like writing this post and drinking a celebratory Shirley Temple. Right now, I'm drinking a Cherry Coke, a habit I plan to kick in 2025, but not just yet. 

This early morning, when the only light outside comes from the white fairy lights and glowing miniature birch tree on our porch, seems like a good time for reflection. I chose my word for 2025 just last week. I'm sure I thought of many possibilities throughout 2024, but I don't remember those. This one came to me immediately, and I hope it will still resonate this coming December. Now, at the end of a string of holidays and occasions, in the midst of winter's true beginning, it seems like a bright little token to grasp. It will be slippery some days, maybe many days. But it will always shimmer if I open my hand and look, not letting it fall.

My word is Celebrate. I want to celebrate life, love, and poetry. I want to do something celebratory every day. I want to approach everything with celebration. I want to spend money in a spirit of celebration, whether I'm buying a glittery lipstick or paying for utilities. It's all worth celebrating. 

I want to pay close attention to holidays and seasons, as I began to do last year. I want new accomplishments, but I also want to celebrate everything I do accomplish. I want to embue everything I do with dignity and magic, whether it's grading an essay, lighting a scented candle, putting on makeup, folding laundry, attending a poetry workshop, writing a post, or drinking coffee.

Today, I will attend an online workshop on daily writing practices with Shuly Cawood. I want to spend time outside in the crisp air. I also plan to go to Barnes for an artist's date. And of course, I want to spend quality time with the boys and read to them from a gorgeous book of winter tales. I want to celebrate every bit of this day.

What is your word of the year?