The Evolution of Beauty and Perfection Through My Eyes

I don’t remember thinking anything about looks until a camping trip when I was 6 or 7. I remember sitting in a folding chair outside, staring in a mirror for what seemed like forever. I can almost put myself back there it’s so vivid in my memory. I don’t remember my thoughts… just staring, studying perhaps, contemplating. 

Just remembering … When my one aunt got married I was a flower girl, at age 5. I cried and gave everyone a hard time that day because I wanted a long white dress like her, not the short yellow thing I had to wear, matching fabrics with the bridesmaids, though even theirs were long. And my short hair was done in curls that did not please me for whatever reason. I wore the same dress for my kindergarten picture, with the curls again, and again for a friends wedding, happier just to be there by then; a part of the celebration.

After my parents split we moved from a small village to the city, with new people, new challenges. I was in grade 3. I was teased and bullied for several years. I remember my younger brother’s classmate calling me pickle nose. I can’t say I was an extrovert before this… I do feel I gradually became more inward, quiet, shy. I was never one to really fit in. I always felt like I connected better with the parents… understanding this to some degree as being a ‘miss goody two shoes’… always wanting to be ‘good’, ‘behave’, follow the rules… Not really aware though. Parents loved it… other kids didn’t so much… especially when their parents say ‘why can’t you be more like Kim?’ This happened with the best friend I had from age 2 to almost 52. It didn’t cause me to stop and change the way I was, to fit in. There were always a few of us ‘nerds’, ‘geeks’, and the like, to gather, connect… no really close friendships other than my childhood BF. 

In highschool I took a community course in ‘Finishing School’, and then Modeling. I had dreams of becoming a model. I did some local fashion shows with this group, and entered the local beauty pageant when I was 16 and 17, being chosen to participate as a contestant in the second year. I remember congratulating the ‘winner’, sad for myself, still happy for her, feeling she deserved it… one of my classmates in the Modeling course. She, to me, was beautiful; not just for her looks. It came from within.

I learned how to dress to accentuate the ‘positives’ and diminish/hide the ‘flaws’, and to wear makeup to give that ‘perfect’ appearance. 

I’d wanted to continue to pursue Modeling after highschool, and applied to a college in Toronto. The only thing was, I needed to go for an interview to really be taken seriously, and I didn’t feel capable of doing this, with wanting to travel, finding a way to get there. So that was that.

I ended up choosing to go to another city, mostly because my BF was going to be attending a private community college there, drawn to a course in Esthetics… still the beauty industry. I really enjoyed it and met some beautiful people. I never felt to go looking for a job in this field, however… Low self esteem, not feeling there were many options at that time. I got a call a year later from someone who’d been given my name through the course, looking for someone in my city. Imagine that. It didn’t last long, once ownership changed. I received what I’d needed from it, experiences and meeting more beautiful people. I wasn’t inclined to pursue this career any further. I remember one hairstylist had to leave due to allergies she’d developed in using the products. 

At this time I was now married, and wanting a family. My husband, when we first met, would tell me I was beautiful. Can I say I believed him? It didn’t hurt to hear. I’ve realized beliefs are a very strong thing, entity. Our minds are powerful beyond our comprehension… What we believe is true, in essence, really is. We also have the power to choose different beliefs, once we real-eyes this choice, the possibilities.

Looking through my stuff over these last years on my own, letting go of more each time, I came across a sheet of paper I’d filled out with my measurements and weight, with my desired goals; from the course I believe. I’d found it when I was 40 and filled it out again, when I was at my heaviest… just before an illness that would begin a new chapter. Looking at it this time I see it on another level, with all I’m being shown around me, and feeling within. I thought I was overweight, yet I wanted my breasts to be bigger. The crazy thing is I’ve reached this weight, when I’ve been at my sickest, weakest points… not by choice. I’ve been called skin and bones, and I was. One of my aunts felt she needed to point it out to me, as if I didn’t know. I wrote her at some point after removing myself from her life, saying she’d never speak that way to her sister who was obese. It was no different. She herself was not a ‘perfect’ weight.

Recently, one morning I awoke and saw myself in the mirror, with all but underpants on. I’d wanted to share here, however I realized it would take away from the message and I’d have to censor it. I’m no longer ashamed of my body, as it is. I had a moment though of ‘oh no, I’m getting too skinny again.’ Fuck, fuck, fuck. (I also didn’t swear, really, until I was married and had children… even then only when I was at the end of my rope. I was threatened with my mouth getting washed out with soap at 7) 

So much has been ingrained into us through societal pressure it’s a challenge for us to supersede. I won’t call it a battle… fighting something is so much more challenging than allowing our self to look at it, acknowledge that it exists, feel it, what our thoughts are, and asking if this feels true to our Being, the In-body-meant of our HeArt/Mind-Spirit/Soul. 

I’ve been gifted an extra special challenge over these last 3+ years to really FACE my Being, my Complex-ion ; with a pretty severe case of rosacea. It has been a challenge to love my wHOLe.Y Self… As I Am. I feel deeply though, it is my response-ability to do so, in looking at the wHOLe.Y picture, Our wHOLe.Y Divine Nature. I am not willing to buy into all that I’ve been sold all these years. We hand so much of our Power over to some idea-illogical view. I see the effects of it everywhere. My youngest son has a saying… ‘first world problems’, which so fits. 

There’s so much I refuse to buy anymore. I will no longer do anything that doesn’t fit within my own personal integrity of what beauty means to me… And that is to be one with my Divine Nature as much as I feel to. I won’t wear makeup to cover my face. It was a photo, a selfie I took of myself a few years ago that opened my eyes more greatfully. I had data then and I shared it on Facebook right there, thinking I looked ‘good’. The sun was really bright though, so it was hard to see clearly. When I got home I was appalled, though many ‘liked’ it. I had this huge sty on one eye, and the blemishes I’d tried covering with powder. I was hiding nothing. I vowed that day to not try to hide my face, my Self, my truth, again. 

I don’t shave because I feel my hair is an integral part of me. I questioned why we shaved for years, why the hair was there in the first place, it’s purpose. I have hairier legs than a lot of men and I get looks. It’s not my challenge. It’s my Nature. 

I don’t use toxic chemicals on my body or in my home, as much as possible, choosing the most basic, even edible things. I feed my Self wHOLe.Y food, not just what goes in my mouth. I treat my Self as if I am worthy of the best I know to give it… Best for Me, what I feel, understanding we are all unique. I treasure my existence, my wHOLe.Y Being, Great-fully. What matters most to Me is how I FEEL… What is My Being telling Me it needs… to Be WELLthy. Each of us is respond-able to choose what feels right and best for our Self alone. It’s not our response-ability to decide for another. I love tattoos, and it turned out my youngest became a tattoo artist. I used to believe they were toxic and would only get black, carbon based ones. I’m mindful and trust the knowledge my son has, along with my own sense-abilities, in making my own choices. 

For me ‘Beauty’ is not a bad word. It just isn’t understood wHOLe.Y sometimes, only looking at the surface of things… Beauty goes well beyond skin depth… it’s not limited or definable. 

I believe ALL IS LOVE, ALL IS PERFECT and BEAUTY-FULL, in ITS OWN WAY… ALL parts of our Divine Nature, integrally, not by any accident. I believe we are given challenges for our real-eyes-sation of Our Self and ALL as wHOLe.Y Beautiful and Perfect right here and NOW. It doesn’t mean we don’t want to change, grow… that we don’t desire more. Far from it. By our very Nature this is a given. It’s not something that needs forced, or put in boxes with labels of what’s right or wrong… fitting into someone else’s perceptions of what this is. The seed is no less beautiful and wHOLe.Y perfect than the tree, or other plant/Being it grows into… including us. 

Blessings of Nature’s Infinite WELLth 
Love, Momma K ❤

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