When I was little, I had a shirt like this. Wore it quite a bit, actually. But I don't think I really believed the message then, or even after I outgrew the shirt. "God don't make no junk" was just something they told you in Sunday School, or something your parents told you when they tucked you in at night. But they were just words...there was no magic or meaning in them.
I'll be the first one to tell you that I've had issues with self esteem over the years. I spent most of middle school thinking I was ugly--not really having a reason, just thinking it. In high school, I couldn't help feeling like I was the only single person in the building; I was sure that there was something wrong with me because of it. And of course, I was teased for, among other things, being tall (having to order all of my pants from catalogs didn't help either).
Like so many other girls my age, I was thirsty for validation. I searched for it in every corner of my life. When I couldn't find it, or when I realized the validation I did find was only temporary, I began to feel even worse about myself. This prompted me to search even harder, more desperately, but still in the wrong places. I've had my share of misadventures because of this...I won't go into detail, but I'm just thankful that I didn't get into anything dangerous.
Everyone says that God fills that heavenly hole in our lives, the one we keep trying to fill with earthly things. I'd heard it so much, but for some reason I just dismissed it, over and over again, in favor of trying to find that relationship, that interaction that would finally make me feel beautiful. I don't know when I snapped out of it and decided to completely accept God's love for me. But since then, He's been working on me, refining me...all the while telling me that I'm special simply because I'm His daughter. Don't get me wrong, the body image issues and the other thoughts that used to plague me never fully go away. I don't feel like His daughter all the time, and I certainly haven't felt special every day of my life...but it's all right, because He still loves me regardless of how I feel.
So, fast forward a bit to Wednesday, July 27, 2011, probably around 9am. After working out and taking a shower, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. I looked at the damaged parts of my hair, my slightly lopsided glasses, my chronically dry skin, the places that never tone up regardless of the number of crunches and squats I do in the morning.
I thought back to that old t-shirt and its sassy message, the one it took me my entire life to believe.
And suddenly, in spite of my flaws, I couldn't stop smiling.
