The definition of beauty

Who am I to try to define beauty? It's an intangible, abstract concept, or so it should be. Like love, we know what beauty is when we see it and we're pretty sure we know what it's not, but it plagues us to really put it into words. Not to mention the fact that everyone's idea of beauty can differ greatly.

The reason that I'm even talking about this on a health and wellness blog is that I find I can very easily stray from any intention of eating healthy, exercising daily and repairing my relationship with my body when my view of my own beauty becomes skewed. If I see a fat stomach or acne (yes, adult acne! boo!) or I'm feeling underwhelmed and unsatisfied at my job, I can spiral down a tunnel of self-hatred. Once I get into that place, there's not a lot that can pull me out.

I can have the best of intentions and plans and goals. I can write down and review those plans every morning (and I do). I can journal and I can throw out all the junk food in my house but if I look in the mirror and I see fat and I see ugly, I'm lost. All my hard work is lost on one moment, on one sideways view of my body in bad lighting.

It's particularly difficult for me on the days when I'm feeling bad about the way I look when I'm at work. I work in a wealthy suburb and the other women I see around me are often stay-at-home moms with the time and resources and self-/peer pressure to be very thin and very well-dressed. Without even realizing I'm doing it, I try to stand differently, laugh differently, etc. when I'm around these other women, who are at least ten years my senior. I immediately assume they are judging me for my weight or my clothing because I am judging me.

So? What do I do? Continue berating myself for the rest of my life? I guess when I was loathing this body at 15 I assumed at some point I'd just become an adult and move past it. But I haven't. And I don't want to be 30, 40, 60 and still comparing the size of my thighs to other women on the street, whether they're my age or not. This isn't just about losing another 18 pounds. I'm not delusional enough to think that once I hit that magical marker I'll beam with self-confidence every morning and never look at another woman with envy.

Then how do I define beauty for myself? How do I allow myself to feel even a little bit beautiful, a little bit feminine, a little bit worthy? Because if I don't figure that out, then I think all will be lost. I'll go from being a 170 lb woman who hates herself to a 152 pound woman who hates herself, and in the end, what's the difference? What's the point?

Living intentionally is beautiful. Eating healthy and moving daily say to yourself and to others that you respect your body. Desiring to be an example for those around you is beautiful. I'm beautiful every morning that I wake up and I try hard to be a more joyful, more true and a more engaged version of myself than I was the day before.