I am petite by nature. It is in my genes. I am actually smaller now than before I had my three boys. Now before you switch your computer off and stop reading, I say these things for a purpose. By all outward appearances, I should have a good sense of who I am. Alas, I am like so many of you ladies out there — I am too hard on myself. If I let self-doubt creep in, my confidence begins to dwindle. She is a terrible thing. Self-doubt can drag me low and vanish any happiness I once felt for myself. I have fair skin. Small breasts. I am not tall enough. My skin is oily. These are the words that self-doubt whispers to me. She is ruthless.
And so, when she comes knocking at the door, I promptly shut it. I turn off the computer. I set aside my phone. And I dig deep. I remind myself of my divine nature. Of my talents. Of all that I have achieved and can achieve. I stop comparing. And then, I go sit on the floor with my three boys and relish in their delight. They truly lift my spirits and plus, they give me killer compliments. When I am with my boys I feel beautiful. I grew them. I helped create them. Each one has added to my beauty.
Besides spending time with my little guys, I’ve found an almost fail-proof way to help facilitate a good day. I get dressed. I dab a bit of color on my cheeks. Swipe on some gloss. Do my hair. And spritz on a bit of my favorite scent. When I look my best, I feel better about myself.
