You’ve read that book, right? The one where the leading lady is a size 2. A man could put his hands around her waist and touch thumb to thumb, middle finger to middle finger.
Oh! And she’s g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s. Perfect hair. Supple lips that are the perfect tone even without lipstick. Her cheeks are blushing perfectly. Her nose curved cutely. Tiny feet.
She draws the attention of EVERY man in town. Right? But especially the eyes of the most handsome man. They fall in love. It’s perfect…kind of…yada yada yada.
I will never write a character who could stand in for a super model. I won’t make her a skinny mini just to fit the norm. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t write perfect looking characters.
Because that isn’t real.
Yeah. There are beauties in this world. A whole lot of them. And they all look different. Some are thin, others are curvy. Skin tone and hair texture and facial features are unique…and beautiful.
We have enough media screeching at us to be the “ideal”…whatever that is. To have bikini bodies. To zap cellulite. To make our legs look longer and our hair smoother and our wrinkles disappear. (Ironically, I just now…JUST NOW…got a Groupon email about teeth whitening)
Do you know what I think is beautiful? Crow’s feet. Because my Great Aunts had them due to lifetimes of smiles. Bellies of mama’s that have lines from carrying babies. Hands calloused from hard work to provide for a family.
Beauty is life lived well. Storms weathered. Mercy given. Babies loved. Kisses on a wedding day and kisses 50 years later. Feet that bring good news and little hands that bring dandelions.
A tiny waist is…well…just a tiny waist.
Beauty is so much bigger than a size 2.