
Beauty
We All Want It
Our toes curl with excitement the first time a boy tells us we’re beautiful. But it sure seems easier said than done. The standard of “beauty” is held so far out of our reach that we spend amazing sums of money on potions and lotions to maintain or achieve what we are told is beautiful. The ancient cavewoman had it so good: no mirrors. And no fashion models in the latest cave-wear showing her just how outdated she was—SO last year. Her value was based on making cave babies and staying alive. (Well, maybe she didn’t have it that good.)
I was born an heiress—to a trucking company. My limo was a big rig. My fashion could be found on the cover of Outdoor Life—blue jeans and flannel. I could grease an axle, bench press 165 pounds, and beat all the boys at arm wrestling. Needless to say, I was not the cute girl, but I knew I could beat her up if I wanted. Add to that the fact that I had my dad’s chin—a manly chin—and you already had a recipe for a beauty disaster.
I am speaking out for the girl I was.
What happened to me is not unique in any way. Others have shared their stories with me because they trust me. This is a sacred honor. I am also speaking out for the woman I am today, a happy, fulfilled, amazing life of sunshine. Sadly, no unicorns.
Little children, adult victims with broken hearts, and those that support them, you need to know that happiness is out there. No myth; real happiness can happen after the crushing weight of evil robs your innocent joy. This book is meant to give the broken in our hearts a voice.
Excerpt from “Love Me Too”
Beauty hang-ups are the adult version of the boogie man. They encompass all those sinister, lurking ideas about which parts of ourselves are less than beautiful—the parts we dwell on, the parts we point out to others, the parts we shamefully attempt to hide by altering our very approach to life. We change how we dress or do our makeup, we put on an air of confidence, and we carefully choose with whom we risk sharing ourselves and our gifts. If we could just fix all of these less-than-beautiful things, there’d be nothing left to run from, cover up, or hide from, right?
Wrong. No matter how “perfect” we become on the outside, our beauty boogie men will still be there—hiding in the closet of our mind, waiting to jump out and scare us anytime we let our guard down and start to feel safe. These boogie men are everywhere. They come from our families, our culture, and even our own self-talk. We can’t escape them.
Excerpt from “How to Embrace Your Inner Hotness”
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