My story didn't end up the way it did with the author of this book, However, my story has ended happily. I do have someone in my life now that sees me with other eyes and loves me for who I am inside and not for the external beauty. Because sooner or later, the beauty will fade as we age and you need to love yourself the way you are. If I had written this book I would have titled it. "Why I don't hide my wrinkles anymore." I have learn to accept the fact that I am worth so much more than what the eyes can see and I care more about what Heavenly Father thinks of me than what the world around me thinks of me. Here is a write up of the book.
This story came from the book, Why I Don't Hide
My Freckles Anymore: Perspectives on True Beauty. Reposted here with
permission.
Six months after our wedding, my husband and I gingerly approached a
topic that was becoming obvious to both of us—he was not physically attracted
to me.
No, he was not gay. He was, however, embarrassed to be discussing
with me feelings he didn’t have for me. He felt shallow and ashamed. He was
still certain I was the very best choice for a life companion, but he had never
really thought of me as attractive.
There it was: hard evidence that I was not beautiful.
I was angry and hurt. How could the one man I chose out of the whole
world—the one who chose me—tell me he was not attracted to me?
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. In the mornings when I got out of
bed, I felt especially unattractive. When I chose what to wear, I worried that
the wrong outfit might make him turn away from me. I wondered if bad hair might
generate feelings of frustration in my husband, who wanted to be attracted to
me. I craved being beautiful to him, and I worried that this problem was
somehow my fault.
Not surprisingly, my confidence tanked as I started to realize I
might never be attractive enough for him, no matter how hard I tried. My
personality started hiding, sinking deep inside of me, out of range. We talked
about divorce, but neither of us really wanted that. I think we both were
hoping that some miracle would come along and make me attractive to him.
A miracle did happen. But it had nothing to do with what my husband
thought about me.
During this time of deep pain and insecurity, I finally realized
that I was looking in the mirror in my bedroom and the mirror in my husband’s
eyes instead of the mirror inside my heart. At some point, I remembered there
was another mirror, and I took a long look at myself. Down deep inside me, a
voice reassured me that I was actually beautiful enough. Strength I had
forgotten welled up in me, and I knew that what my husband thought about my
attractiveness was not all that important. I could value him without taking on
his weaknesses, including his inability to see my beauty.
Something changed in me that day. I wanted to keep that strength
with me, and I knew I would have to choose to believe in my beauty, even if no
one else did. I prayed to overcome self-defeating thoughts, to avoid hatred,
anger, and jealousy, which always bring self-doubt. I quit blaming my husband
for his blindness and began being good to myself. That is my miracle.
And although it doesn’t change a thing, I just want to mention that
last week, my husband began to cry. He apologized for how he felt about me at
the beginning of our marriage. He says he has discovered that I really am
beautiful. The problem was inside him. He can’t believe he said those things to
me. He says he thinks I am the most beautiful woman he knows. And I already knew that.
Women today are bombarded by harmful messages in society about their
bodies and appearance. But Why I Don't Hide
My Freckles Anymore: Perspectives on True Beauty tries to
combat those negative messages. We often feel inadequate and overwhelmed
by the impossible-to-achieve ideals touted in the media. And sometimes our
harshest critics are the eyes looking back at us in the mirror. No matter the
source, when our image of personal beauty is threatened, it's important to
remember who the rightful beholder of true beauty is—our Heavenly Father.
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