Mirror, mirror, on the wall...

It's been aaaaaaages since my last post, so I do apologise! This post's going to be a bit different to what I normally talk about on here, but I really felt God putting it on my heart. It's mainly aimed at girls, but guys, don't stop reading, I know you still struggle with this a little bit AND it might help you understand the fairer sex a bit better!

So, recently, I've noticed my clothes have been feeling pretty loose, and my beloved skinny jeans have been all but falling off me... Even my belt is too big when on the last rung, so I relented and took myself jeans shopping. I hate jeans shopping with a passion. It is the second most depressing thing to shop for (the 1st being swimwear), as it normally involves trawling for hours to find jeans that I can shoe-horn my impressively wide hips into, but that'll not be baggy on my legs, and not too long for my very little legs. Even then you have to find the perfect wash, with just the right amount of bleaching/distressing so that they'll be flattering. Buying jeans that fit me has always been near-on impossible. (Fellow hour-glasses will understand my woes). So, I braved the denim-wear section of topshop and began to pick a few pairs.

Now, current said pair of jeans that had become too loose were a size 12, but I thought there was no way I could possibly squeeze my bum into a size 10, especially in Topshop, so I picked up a few 12s, and one size 10 just to see how far off I was. When I got into the changing room, I picked up the 10s, looked at the waist band, looked in the mirror, and thought "HAH. This'll be fun." Amazingly, as I pulled them on, they seemed to fit... But I definitely didn't think I'd get them over my hips... But then I did. And then I thought I wouldn't be able to do them up without a massive fight. But then I did. And then I thought I'd have a massive over-hang and muffin top... But I didn't. I was wearing a pair of size 10 jeans, that were wonderfully comfortable, and fitted perfectly. They were exactly the right length and colour, and I loved them. You cannot begin to comprehend the level of joy I experienced in that changing room at that moment.

I'd walked in feeling overweight and unattractive, and walked out feeling like I was fit enough to run a marathon (luckily reality kicked in before I actually attempted something that silly!) Since then I've been brave enough to try on lots more clothes just to check it's for real, and I've consistently been getting into size 10s, and occasionally even 8s(!) It's made me realise that it isn't so much what size we are, but how we see ourselves that affects how we feel. Which is really stupid.

I know soooo many women who are size 12, 14, 16, 18 and bigger, who I genuinely consider to be stunning. They are beautiful just the way they are, and yet I felt like a whale at a size 12. We're taught to be sooo self critical of ourselves, and are sold the lie that the key to our happiness lies in new clothes, bigger boobs, smaller waist-lines and line-free faces. Marketing and film companies show us that we can't be attractive unless we match up to the standards of perfection that THEY impose on us!!! LIES!

To me, there's nothing more beautiful than someone who radiates love, kindness and joy. That's true beauty. That's the beauty that won't fade. That's the reflection of Jesus. Roots grow out, weight-fluctuates and botox wears off, but the image of Jesus Christ imprinted on someone's heart will maintain it's beauty even when they're 90 and incontinent with all their teeth fallen out.

Self-image has been a constant battle for me for as long as I can remember. I've always been unhappy with my looks, my weight, my personality. I've struggled with low self-esteem, eating disorders, food obsession, make-up addiction... Each time I've slumped, God's spoken the same word over me through numerous different people. "I want you to see yourself through my eyes. I want you to look in the mirror and see what I see." Each time my response has been "God, I KNOW You love me, but I just don't know how to see myself like that." Now I finally get it. God looks at me, and he sees his daughter. Every parent looks at their child and is in awe of them. Every parent thinks their child is beautiful. Now I understand why God sees beauty in me even when I don't. Now I see why my hating myself for so many years broke his heart. Because if I had a daughter who saw herself the way I have seen me, I'd be heartbroken too.

I'm still very much a work in progress. I know I'll still have "fat days", and days that it just won't go right. But I pray that my resemblance of Christ will outweigh any physical imperfections. And besides, I'd rather be old and have laughter lines around by eyes from being too happy all my life, and scars and stretchmarks from having children than be plastic and "perfect" and miserable. I want to eat chocolate and not hate myself for it, and I want to be loved for who I am, not for how hot I am. (I KNOW I'm just way too hot ;P) God's too good for us to let ourselves get in our own way of showing the world His glory.

From this day forward; I love me, love-handles and all, because if I don't I'll never let anyone else do it.

Oh, and you, reading this? You're GORGEOUS :)

Proverbs 31:
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.