Most of these things are concerns that I have been trying to change for the majority of my life. I wanted to have a "thin" body...but when I did, it didn't look right on me. I "needed" to have a bigger butt- whatever that means. I obviously have my grandfather's genes... on both sides. I'm a strong girl, and I like it. There is little that is dainty about me... unless I'm wearing a dress. I often try to hide the fact that I'm extremely loud and pretty boisterous. I throw my boys around in the air and we growl like wild animals as we crawl across the living room floor. That's what I do.
I used to equate this reality to being more of a "tomboy." Back in the day, there was no other definition. The reality is that you can be extremely strong, yet completely feminine. You can be breathtakingly beautiful and still have some big guns. (In that, I am referring to your arms.) You can be a hard worker, have dirt under your nails, feet that look like you've been climbing trees and still be so very lovely. You can be the complete opposite and still be very lovely.
I don't know how the idea ever came to my mind that strength was bad. I freaked out one day when my husband and I measured our arms together. Mine was just about an inch smaller than his. I was terrified. In reality, I was just strong. I know if I really tried, I could probably be as physically strong as he is...but I'm sure he'd never let me get that close. He's too competitive.
We had a lovely moment the other night when I was feeling overwhelmed and wanted to run away to the library. As I approached the car, he looked at me with this huge handsome smile and dared me to jump in and join him as he was skipping rope. I almost felt like a kid again. My heart began to race and I found myself letting go and trying. It was the first time in a long time that I had actually tried something new. I'd never jumped rope with my husband like that before. As he twirled the rope, I felt my soul light up. I was connecting to him and to myself. It felt like perfection as we jumped beneath the stars... the kids staring at us from the car wondering what the heck was going on. I realized then that I needed to stop running from me. I needed to step away from the norm, no matter how many judgments or awkward stares I get. I need to be me.
I happened to stumble across a website today that confirmed that there are so many other women just like me. Looking at the pages, I immediately felt at home in my skin. I felt joyful in my epiphany that I wasn't broken and that God had simply made me strong. Awesome.
Voicing these truths are new to me, so here it is: I am an aggressive, loud, very strong woman who is often messy, loves to paint and sing her heart out before God. I enjoy the burning sensation in my chest after an intense workout and I love to lift heavy weights off of the floor...sometimes to my detriment. I have a tendency to feel I have something to prove. I enjoy needlework, being outdoors and I don't particularly like washing the dishes. I have a tendency to avoid difficult things, drive too fast on city streets, blast my music extremely loud when I am by myself and watch ridiculously cheesy wholesome movies. I have high- sometimes perfectionist personal standards and I often have a really hard time fitting my thighs in my jeans. I love to make the souls of others shine and I can't walk by someone who is in tears without asking them if they are alright. I have a hard time parting with sentimental papers but I love getting rid of clothes. That's me. That's who I am.
Don't be surprised if I write about joining a boxing gym to train for the next Olympics or enter into a strength competition. It's probably gonna happen this year.
I love the way God made me. I love the way He perfectly knit you together as well. Let's start seeing ourselves as we were truly made to be- Perfectly crafted in the image of a beloved God. Nothing broken. Nothing missing. Nothing to be desired. Just beautiful you.
Have a great weekend.
-Mel
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