I did it.
I went without make up yesterday and lived to talk about it.
IT. WAS. FREEING.
All my life I’ve been little miss perfect. There’s even a Shel Silverstein poem called “Almost Perfect” about Mary Hume who goes around muttering “almost perfect but not quite” about everything that doesn’t meet her standards.
I lived that poem.
Of course, one day Mary dies, and God ends up saying the same thing about her.
But apparently, I liked to ignore that part.
I always had straight A’s, great hair and skin, a trim figure, the best parents, anything I wanted even if I didn’t ask for it.
I was also incredibly depressed and suicidal by the age of 16.
I think perfection was a drug for me. I wanted to cling to it to prove I was better than everyone else because having to come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe people will like me flaws and all was too risky.
What if they don’t?
Becoming a Christian was the best thing that ever happend to me in that regard.
Because I truly DON’T CARE if other people like me. I care about what God thinks.
But the last piece to that little puzzle was to walk through the world bare faced, not concened with what anyone thinks about my looks.
Because here’s the thing: pretty doesn’t last forever anyways.
And did everyone run away in terror? No. I even got a couple of compliments about my hair. 😆
One little girl in my Sunday school class did ask why I had dots all over my face and I told her this is what happens when you don’t eat your broccoli. Okay, kidding. I did tell her this is what being an adult means and never grow up. 😆😆
All in all, it was a really good day. I wasn’t checking my face to see how poorly my concealer blended. I wasn’t worried if my mascara smudged.
I was just me, truly in the moment, vowing to God that I’ll remain faithful to him.
Flaws and all.