Yesterday was my “self-pampering day”. I have spent the last 2 weeks moving, cleaning, hauling stuff to the dump and goodwill, all in between working at three different jobs. So yesterday I gave the keys back on the old place and am finally only living in one place. My place. It's small but cozy.
I decided that this move would be different. I gave myself enough overlap time between renting the new place and moving out of the old that I could do it a little at a time. So, instead of boxing up everything and moving it over and then being surrounded by boxes of crap I have no room for and no idea what to do with, I only brought the absolute necessities, then I filled in with the rest of the special things.
The rest is gone.
At any rate it's been a rough couple of weeks on multiple levels, so after I handed in the keys I treated myself to a manicure, a pedicure, a hair cut, and even a trip to Victoria's Secret for some new panties.
Hey, everyone wears panties. Theirs just happen to be cuter than average…So sue me.
Here's my point. I'm sitting there in the nail salon for a couple of hours, watching people come and go, getting hands or feet soaked, rubbed, buffed, painted and otherwise beautified. Is this necessary? No, of course not. But if you've ever had a pedicure, in particular, you know that there's nothing like having your feet look and feel this amazing afterwards.
What I saw on the faces of the majority of the women in there – and believe me, they were all shapes, sizes and ages – was not the excitement of pampering… it was insecurity… the inability to love themselves. How do I recognize this, you may ask?
Well…that's a whole other memoir…
At any rate, a young, thin, beautiful girl walked in wearing a pair of five inch heels and a tight skirt. She sat next to me, getting her nails done and yet she looked so sad. There was a band aid peeking out over the heel of one of her shoes – beauty is pain, right? But that band aid struck me. Here she was already so beautiful, going through so much pain and time and effort just to keep walking around looking beautiful. We all were there for the same reasons, really.
Wanting to be found beautiful.
Then I read this beautiful piece of prose written by one of my favorite young poets, Christopher Poindexter, and it stopped me.
“…the curves of your body I will read
like no man has before –
those silly fools failed to understand the pattern
they were searching for what the media tells them to search for –
skinny frame, thigh gap
nothing too excessive.
you are so beautiful
and it isn't the kind of pain
that you ask to go away
but the kind you welcome warmly
as your voice begins to shake.”
Every woman wants to be loved this way.
That there are men out there who look beyond what's visible and see true beauty both astounds and encourages me. That this man is willing to share it with the world is priceless…Thanks Chris.