So.. I want to show you something… and I don’t mind if you think it’s gross or weird because I don’t collect friends based on us finding ALL of the same things beautiful. I’m sure for instance that some of you MINGERS would eat celery or enjoy doing maths and I don’t deduct points for that… much. A large percentage of you reading this won’t share my views on faith or politics and that REALLY is fine - I LOVE diversity I NEED people around me I can learn from and I WANT to stay open to voices other than simply those I find comforting because they agree with me. (even if it’s hard)
Anyway… so BEHOLD… some of my very favourite battle scars (I have others.. many others!) This is a small patch of my saggy stretch-marked belly and (aside from the fact it’s a CACK quality photograph) I LOVE THEM!!!
I don’t just mean that in the cheesy reframing of something I hate in positive memories (though that’s fine too) I mean I genuinely ENJOY them. I love the varied textures, the colours and how they change.. from the deep angry purple they were to the way they are starting to have a kind of silvery glimmer as they fade. Each one is completely unique and they’re mine. To my eyes and touch they are pleasing and I enjoy them.
I have always liked scars and the stories behind them. I love that they represent moments so physically impacting they LITERALLY changed the landscape of a persons skin… I just… I think they’re wonderful.
Over the past few years I’ve done a lot of unpicking of my opinions on my body (and I’m still working on it) and especially since Arwen was born I feel burdened to CELEBRATE beauty in a way that will teach her that the media do NOT get the final say on what is (or isn’t) attractive. I want my daughter to know that God has laced beauty into EVERYTHING - she just has to be willing to look for it.
There’s so much more I want to say and I wanted to make this some wonderfully poetic tribute to the HUGE richness and diversity of beauty and what it means and so on and so forth. I even considered throwing in a little feminist rant and writing a little about the journey my body took to get to this stretch-marked state BUT ALAS… I do not have the time or headspace apparently haha. I’ve been writing this in really short (disjointed, interrupted) bursts since mothers day and I think it’s just about time I got it OUT THERE and hope you get the gist.
Basically - HERE ARE MY STRETCHMARKS - I know they’re not widely considered a thing of beauty… I want you to know that I love them anyway.
What ‘weird’ things do you find beautiful?