You. Me.

I'm running off to finish the doings of the day, but had to post and share. Here's something to think about. (Thanks, Tracie.)

I have three girls who watch and wonder about make-up and girl stuff. I can't remember where I heard it (MFS?), but I'd like to reiterate that too many hours spent in the Departments of Hair and Make-up produce plastic, soulless people who, in not bothering to fill themselves with anything useful, intelligent, edifying, have succeeded in their goal: becoming a look. A shell. A not-person. An easily photo-shopped caricature of someone who might, with some attention, be a good and contributing and really kind, lovely, smart person. Someone he or she could be proud of.

C.S. Lewis said (paraphrasing wildly) that if one acts like an idiot, one very often succeeds in becoming precisely that.

I'm passionate about this because of my fragile/beautiful/fierce/wonderful girls. Because we see everywhere the effects of people who suffer terribly a lack of real self-esteem, because (shhh) they've done nothing which would be deserving of esteem. So much of our culture attaches value to things over which we have little to no control and yet we line up, volunteering to beat ourselves senseless for not aligning with some crazy--and often literally made-up--standard of perfection. This is nuts, people. Stop it right now.

Go forth, do things you can call your mom and brag about, things you want your grandchildren to speak admiringly of, and regard your physical self with kindness. You are okay, beautiful because you are real, beloved because you've chosen to be.

To quote Bob the Tomato: God made you special and he loves you veeeerrrry much!

XO.