The Prettiest Us in the World

I have read lately, over and over, this blog post by Michigan writer, mom, and wife Nicole Jankowski.  It is an old post, but a new discovery of mine.  To me, it is so important, and I have some things I'd like to say about it, but first, we will all need to read it.  Go on, take a minute and do that right now.  I'll wait.

Seriously.  Read it.

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OK, now that you're back (maybe with tissues), let's talk about it for a bit.

Some of what Nicole has to say, we have heard before.  She addresses again the way we (and by "we", I mean women) see ourselves, and how that is often a reflection of the way society has narrowly defined beauty--by a standard that is unrealistic, unrepresentative, and arguably unattainable.  It probably isn't the first time you have heard someone advocate for a broader societal definition of beauty; this often includes not only a call for an allowance of many different body types, but for a recognition that there is more that is beautiful about women than their bodies.

That is old news.

The thing that is, to me, so arresting about this post, is her own story, of how her husband sees her, and how it is his voice in her ear that tells her what she needs to hear about herself.

This, I think, is a thing that every woman longs for--that one person who truly finds her beautiful.  And let me be clear here, I am not talking about being "a beautiful person", the way people mean you are beautiful apart from your appearance, although that is also a real thing, but it's a different thing.  I think all of us (and women, I apologize for generalizing, and admit to the possibility of exceptions), while understanding beauty as encompassing more than physical appearance, still deeply long to be found physically beautiful and desirable by someone we love, and feel that we are incredibly fortunate if we are.  I have a friend who sometimes says that she is lucky, because her husband "doesn't care" about weight, appearances, or that sort of thing, and every time she says it, I know it is not true.  He cares, I promise you.  He just thinks she is beautiful.  Maybe this feeling of improbable good fortune comes from the fact that, in a world where our appearance is judged so harshly in every arena, the knowledge that men who truly love us see us differently is hard to accept or understand.  We are all full of things we are told are not supposed to be there--stretch marks, scars, jiggling, sagging, wrinkles, hair--and it can seem fortunate just to find someone who doesn't mind, who can "get past it" to love us anyway.  Someone who would actually see the beauty in it all seems wildly miraculous.

But some of you have this miraculous voice in your ear, the one that tells you that you are beautiful, that you are pretty, that you are exactly right.  If you are one of these fortunate women, how wonderful--and please know, I am so happy for you, truly.  However, I know things are still hard for you, and the voices outside are still strong, and I think there is something for you in the rest of what I have to say.  Also, I'd like you to consider that, as difficult as it can still feel for you, even with such a loving touchstone, how much more so must it be for those who are without.  What if there is no voice that sings in your ear each morning?  What if you are no one's prettiest anything in the world?  Or maybe worse, what if the voice in your ear is the same as the voice in your head?  What if the voice next to you tells you that you are not beautiful, not desirable, not enough?  For all of those, all of us, here is what I want to say.

First, I believe that this miracle is out there.  It is out there for all of us.  There is no magic number we have to reach, or person we have to become to earn it.  Skinny, magazine-perfect doesn't equal being someone's one-and-only beautiful one.  (After all, don't all those size-2 models and actresses, whose whole jobs are their appearances, get divorced more often and have less success finding love than the average size-12 housewife?)  This miracle is out there for anyone, and I know it for a fact.  I believe it because I see it.  I see them in the grocery store, women of every shape and size, women I know are heavier, or older, or less well-dressed than me, walking together with men whose arms are around their shoulders, who hold their hands, whose faces beam with love and pride, and who look at them like the most beautiful things to walk the earth.  I believe it because I know it.  I know so many amazing, beautiful women--normal, regular women--with husbands and boyfriends who adore them, who cannot take their eyes off these lovely creatures that they are so fortunate to share their lives with.  I believe it because it happens.  Because I am told.  Because Nicole says so.  Because Nicole is the prettiest wife in the world.  It is out there, and it can be found--it can find you.

But second.  In the meantime.  The meantime may be long.  Truthfully, I don't know how long.  Maybe a very long time.  And in that meantime of uncertain length, I have come to this conclusion.  We will have to be this miracle for each other.  There is no other solution.  Believe me, I understand.  I know it's not the same.  I know the time seems long.  But this is both the least and the best we can do.  So, ladies, with that in mind, may I just ask you, can we please just STOP?  Can we stop?  Can we just have NOT ONE MORE conversation that is about fat?  Or weight?  Or calories, or working out or not working out or gaining weight or not gaining weight or muffin tops or thighs or bellies or jeans sizes or food guilt?  PLEASE?  I know it's a lot to ask, but hear me out.  Maybe you've never thought about it this way, but when you start putting yourself down, or talking about how chubby your legs are, or outlining your plan to lose 30 pounds, and I am 20 pounds heavier than you, do you realize you are saying I'm obese?  When you are talking about how you just can't shake that last 5 pounds no matter how hard you work out, maybe you don't see the look on the face of the sister next to you, but I do.  Think of someone you love, your sister, your daughter, your friend.  Is she fat to you?  Obese, repulsive, ugly?  Or do you think she's beautiful, and if someone said those other things about her, would you find them and beat them down?  And do you understand that when you are saying them about yourself, you are saying them to her?  That you are saying them to all of us?  Really think, for just a second, about the question Nicole posed to us up there.  Who is telling us that our bodies aren't the ideal?  People who don't know us, who aren't invested in us.  People who don't love us.  So starting now, can that please, please stop being us?  Whether or not we have found that one special someone to whom we are the prettiest, we can all still see each other through those same eyes of love.  This is our chance, our time, to add our voices to the song, "Your body is exactly right".  We can do this, dear ones.  We are all built just right.