No-Shame November

A friend of mine, Liz Brice, has been blogging throughout this month about things that she is ashamed of in a challenge called No-Shame November. She is putting it all out there, saying what makes her ashamed, and hopefully through this process she will face her fears head on, learn something about herself, and allow others to laugh/learn along with her. I didn't take this month-long challenge myself, but I thought it'd be a good activity to devote a post to the cause. This is painfully scary for me, because I am not quite as brave as Liz in the "let it all out" department.

Well, here we are. Ready for mine?

I have a complex about my appearance. Classic stupid girl issue, I know. But it's unfortunately true.

Okay chill, before you freak out about the impending emotional vomit, have no fear. I'm not going to gently sob on your shoulder and listen to the Carpenters as you tell me that everything is going to be okay. I'm a tougher cookie than that. (But if you want to listen to The Carpenters on your own time, go for it. They're pure gold. I love when Chris Farley and David Spade sing that song in Tommy Boy.) It's just that I happen to think other girls are great in all shapes and sizes, yet when I apply the standards to myself, the restrictions somehow become an unrealistic ideal that Britney Spears put in my head in '99.

There are some days when I am happy with the girl looking back in the mirror and the world is a-okay.

But, more often than I'd like to admit, the girl looking back at me in the mirror has a laundry list of problems: she's too tall, she's not nearly thin enough, her butt is too big, and she could use some styling tips.

Why? It's ridiculous. And unacceptable. Because all of that stuff does not matter. It just doesn't. And while I'm not a size 0 like I used to be in the old high school days, I'm not sure that's what I even want to be anymore. I'm a size 6 and know I can pull it off if I just get out of my own head.

Here we go on the  list:

I'm ashamed that I consider myself a confident, dynamic, and intelligent person in most areas of life, and that such a trivial category as appearance is one that trips me up.

I'm ashamed that I spend WAY too much time looking in the mirror evaluating how I look in my outfits (ask my roommates...oops.) I'm ashamed that I sometimes gauge my good-looking-ness in comparison to other girls, as if there is some sort of contest going on out there in the universe. (Here's a hint: There isn't! We can ALL be awesome and nobody wins or loses. How nice.) I'm ashamed that I claim to know a God who made me to be wonderfully great, yet I don't usually act like I value the body he gave me in which to live a fabulous life.

So. What to do from here? What's my job here? I can tell you that my job is NOT to make myself into some weird sort of ridiculous stereotype. My job is to be a healthy Anna Gesch, who is as cool with herself as she is with others. My job is to love life and not get caught up in a stupid, meaningless rat race for perfection. And when I get dressed in the morning, my job is to do so because it makes me happy, shows my personality, and displays my point of view. I resolve to start doing my job in this department.

And this little resolution is not intended as a deep-sea fishing expedition for compliments. It's meant as inspiration for all of you people, guys or girls, to value who you are and have confidence in your positive attributes. It's hopefully to serve as a reminder to cut the comparison routine (for both ourselves and others) and to start living life above all that junk.

Deal? Deal. Let's do it.