You Are What You Think

I have a bad habit. A destructive frame of mind. Something that, if someday I’m blessed with a child, I swear I’ll overcome. Because you know kids, from our words, they pick up on far more than we could ever imagine. About our views of the world, those around us, and ourselves.

Wait. Why wait…

Last night, as I was getting ready to hit the town for my best friend’s bachelorette party, my husband sent a quick text checking in on how the evening is going. He mentions a picture posted on social media; how we all look like we’re having fun and that I look beautiful.

You’re beautiful, have fun! -M

No, I feel gross. My hair is not doing what I want and I hate my outfit. -B

Why is it so hard to take a compliment? Why is it that I see so many women respond in this fashion? Determined to disprove any positive comment that comes our way. I trust my husband. I know him to be a person of sincerity. He doesn’t have to compliment me, he wants to.

You would think after six years of this predictable dialogue, he might give up, knowing that his efforts so often fall on deaf ears…

Someday you will see what I see. -M

He hasn’t given up.

Being a parent someday would be a great reason to conquer the beast that is negative self image. Destructive internal talk. Right now I don’t have young ears around me, listening to the personal digs I think nothing of as I spit them out, dripping with discontent.

But I have myself.

I hear my words, both internal and spoken, and they have indeed left their mark. So for now, it’s me that has to be reason enough.

Day 4