Project 31: Day 1

A few weeks ago I posted about a blog that I love to follow and the challenge she made to fellow bloggers to complete Project 31.  Today completely got away from me (big surprise), but I'm hoping this project will cause me to stretch and grow beyond my normal comfort level.

The challenge for Day 1 is to describe what beauty means to you.  Now, had someone asked me this question 10 years ago I probably would have picked up the latest issue of some magazine and pointed to a stick figured Hollywood icon with her perfect hair and boney cheekbones.  She'd be a far cry from my 5'5" plump, Southern-fed, double-chinned self.  I have to say that three big things changed the way I describe beauty now: going to college at Meredith, the man I married, and the birth of our son.

Meredith College did a lot for me.  I went in as a timid, quiet freshman with my fair share of body image issues.  I came out four years later as an articulate, well-educated, confident young woman.  I didn't care if I had a boyfriend or if I looked perfect that day.  However, I was (and still remain) a firm believer that pearls go great with your fanciest dress or your dingiest yoga pants.  (Motherhood has yielded more days of dingy rather than fancy.)  Don't get me wrong, I didn't walk out perfect but I learned that I had a voice and it was worth something.  My opinions, though they may not be shared by all, should be valued.  I was encircled by a phenomenal group of women.  We laughed together, shared one another's burdens, and developed into young ladies as a unit.  This is beauty.

This may not seem beautiful to you, but to anyone that spent four pivotal years at Meredith College this is the epitome of beauty.

Graduation day!

Next, there's that man of mine.  Oh brother!  He has totally changed the way I view beauty.  I had a relentless struggle with body image, even after my MC days.  We started dating and the boy would never compliment me.  I was wondering what was wrong with him.  I did it all right.  I had the Ann Taylor dresses, my cutest purse, my hair and make up was perfect and nothing!  Then I threw on a pair of jeans, left my hair curly, and frumped it up by going au naturale, and THEN he wouldn't shut up about how gorgeous I looked.  Seriously?!  This has ended up being one of the most endearing things about our relationship (and came in quite handy when I was too sick during pregnancy to put effort into the way I looked).  You see I always dated guys that knew I was smart, but I never dated one that truly loved me for what I was on the inside.  He knows I'm opinionated, brutally honest, and stubborn as a mule, but he loves me for it.  Phillip doesn't mind if I don't put effort into the way I look one day.  All he cares about is that I feel loved and our son is cared for and loved on.  I think marriage vows should have a clause somewhere in between "for better or for poorer" and "in sickness and in health" that says, "on frumpy days and on glam days."  That is beauty.

This is probably curly at it's craziest.  He loves me still.

Most recently beauty was redefined by our sweet Emory.  There truly is no way to describe the love a parent automatically has for their child.  It is a simple, deep, pure love.  I don't know that there is a thing Emory could ever do to break that bond.  I am sure I will have days of disappointment and exhaustion in being his mother, but he has developed in me a love that is everlasting.  He has shown me the beauty of God.  If God's love for me is half of what mine is towards Emory then I'm blessed beyond measure.  I have always been a fairly guarded person.  I found it easiest to not allow people the opportunity to hurt you, so I built walls.  I told Phillip recently that I am overjoyed with my job as Emory's mother, but I'm scared to death that one day my heart will be crushed.  The "what ifs" that run through your mind as a parent are constant.  Elizabeth Stone said it best, "Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous.  It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."  Emory truly is just that, my heart.  I think this exposed vulnerability and eternal adoration for another human being is beautiful.  The journey to true beauty began long before Emory, but he literally was the nail in my superficial coffin.  I can't believe I am going to post the picture below, but I think it's telling.  I am not a fan of the way I look anymore, but when I see the stretch marks I am reminded of two years fighting to conceive and one very long, difficult pregnancy and when I look at my surgical scars I remember that I made it through 6+ months of hell to bring my child into this world safely and as healthy as possible.  That is beauty.

Granted, this was taken in May and a little over a month after Emory's birth.  Some of the stretch marks have faded, but some are still there.  The scars from the surgery are quite prominent.  It's ok because I have a beautiful baby boy.  They are the story of our journey to him.

He was worth every tear drop, every prayer, and every ounce of pain...and SO much more.

Perhaps this Project 31 gig may reveal too much, but I've always been a fairly candid person.  My goal is to grow along the journey this next month, and the only way for me to do that is to be completely honest.  I hope you recognize all the beauty in your life. (Hint: You always find it in the small things.)