Estimated reading time: 6 minutes
Hello lovely people!
Today’s blog will be a bit shorter because I got sick this week. Turns out chores and work don’t slow down when you get a fever. Oh and of all the weeks we chose to start 75 Hard, we chose this week. So yay!
Jokes aside, I’m really excited to write this blog. It’s been on my heart for some time!
Before we dive in, I want to preface this blog is targeted mostly toward my gals. Guys of course feel a struggle with insecurity, but not in the way girls do. And I’m obviously coming from a woman’s perspective. So if you’re a guy – welcome! But sorry if this feels strange:)
For most of my life, I haven’t really cared what people thought of me.
As a kid, I was me and if you didn’t like it, well you could buzz off.
I prided myself in not wearing tons of makeup as I got older, being content with how God made me. I wore what I wanted to wear (which was regrettable, most of the time lol). I didn’t care if someone didn’t like it.
Don’t get me wrong, I always dealt with the typical stuff any girl deals with. I worried my thighs were too fat. In retrospect, I had chicken legs, but I didn’t see them that way. In middle school, I went through a phase when I felt I could only smile a certain way to be “attractive” (I’d just learned about being “attractive”, you see).
But for the most part (and as my atrocious childhood outfits can attest), I carried confidence.
Until recently.
The last nine months, I’ve struggled with body image more than I ever have in my entire life.
Every morning, facing my closet leaves a pit in my stomach. What to wear? Especially on the days I don’t have my A List clothing clean, I start to panic.
I wear black because I know it’s slimming. Some outfits I loved in the past look ugly to me now. On days I’m struggling the most, I just want to hide – so I throw on the baggiest outfit I have, even if it’s 1000 degrees out.
If you’re a girl, you probably know this feeling well. Even if you’re a guy, you might be familiar with the feeling. The feeling of self criticism, poor self esteem, lack of confidence, even self hatred.
The feeling that there’s always someone out there who’s more beautiful, sexy, or strong than you are.
The feeling that you’ll never be able to compete in this cruel competition – a competition you don’t remember signing up for.
The feeling of wishing you could tweak little parts of you, wishing yourself away.
I think a lot of things contribute to this feeling for me.
For starters, I believe our culture of sexualizing women is a huge contributor. Especially porn. If the vast majority of men struggle with a porn addiction, which inevitably leads to objectifying women, it’s no wonder women feel like they need to become an object. A perfect object that fits the exact mold a guy wants.
Instagram is a great example of this sexualizing culture. It’s actually the reason I took a break from Instagram for 9 months. I was really struggling with comparing myself to other women on that stupid platform.
The porn epidemic on Instagram is insane. And all it took for me was seeing one reel or picture of a girl in a skimpy outfit to wonder to myself “why doesn’t my waist look like that?” or “why doesn’t my face look like hers?”
I want to clarify: comparison is still a choice. I wasn’t forced to compare myself to these women. But I think softcore porn has no place on social media platforms, and there is wisdom in removing yourself from a platform when it triggers a repetitive struggle within you. For me, that was comparison, and frankly I didn’t want to face it every day.
The Scale
Another huge struggle for me in the last few months has been the introduction of a scale in our home.
Nathan was in the midst of bulking season and wanted to measure his weight. But getting a scale caused a lot of turmoil within me.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve slowly gained weight. This is SO normal and healthy. I’m still growing and getting stronger, so of course I’d gain weight naturally.
But for some reason, I’ve set a number in my head as “the number” to keep. And as that number (which by the way, is how much I weighed at age 19), gets further away, I feel more and more insecure.
It’s not logical. But it’s something I struggle with.
So where’s the good news?
Honestly, I’m not through my struggle with insecurity yet. I probably won’t be for a very long time. While I’m back on Instagram, I pop on primarily to post, not to scroll. I’ll never visit the reels tab again.
But God is teaching me something really cool through the struggle.
One day, I was sitting with him and begging him to take away these feelings. They are so crippling sometimes, and I just wish he would snap his fingers and make them leave.
The thought came to me then: “what is the most valuable thing about you?“
I had been thinking about successful people, and the amount of money they pay to look attractive. Some people will drop hundreds of thousands of dollars to remove fat, plump their lips, reconstruct, smooth, tighten, you name it.
I thought, if I were to put a dollar amount on the most valuable thing about me, what would it be?
Not my looks. Not my brain – there are far smarter people out there than me. Not my creativity – there are far better creators than me. Not even my personality – I have quite a few flaws.
When it boiled down to it, there was one thing that outpriced them all. One thing any rich person would drop their entire fortune for, pay every dollar they had to get what I have.
And that’s my relationship with God.
Essentially, eternity with him outprices anything on earth. It’s the most “expensive” thing about me. The most valuable.
It’s not a new thought, just a new way of thinking about it that helped me.
So recently anytime I pass by the mirror and feel the familiar pull of insecurity, I’ve been repeating to myself:
“I love the Lord.”
I’m not cured. It’s not magic. But it has helped.
My body will pass away, and you know what? One day I’m gonna be old and gross and wrinkly, and there’s nothing I can do to prevent that. I’m here for a moment, brief as a rainstorm. And I sure don’t want my headstone to say “prettiest girl of them all.”
I don’t think the key to fighting insecurity is to convince yourself you are the most beautiful. You’re not. It’s just a fact.
I think the key is to refocus. Being pretty wasn’t the point anyway.
Wishing you a wonderful weekend:)
XOXO,
Annabelle