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.