This year for the first time I take part in August McLaughlin’s Blog Fest “Beauty Of A Woman”.
As a newbie blogger, August shared her story of suffering from an eating disorder and with that opened a door for many to share their story or to support others. As a “Thank You” she started the BOAW Blog Fest to connect all the amazing bloggers she met.
To find out more about “Beauty Of A Woman” ~ Blog Fest please head over to Augusts Blog. There you’ll find more amazing posts, and you can win some prizes as well: BOAW Blog Fest IV.
I am 44 years old, and it was not before my 40th year that I could really say that about myself and feel it too.
Beauty. Being Beautiful. A difficult topic for any woman but if you have gone through abuse in your childhood it gets even more difficult. If on top your mother had breast cancer and passed away before you were 13 years old you rather not go there at all.
One of my ways of surviving abuse was rather to hide: Don’t gather attention. Stay out of the limelight. Most of all: Do not make yourself attractive. Being attractive means getting the unwanted attention of the abuser, and I am not even sure if there was only one.
Of course, this was not a conscious decision I took. You cannot at the age of 10 or 11. It just happened that I became more of a tomboy. Both my mother and my grandmother did use make-up and liked to dress up, but I cannot remember that they ever tried to get me into it. My friends on the other hand were not that interested in fashion or make-up. So there was no pressure from that end.
The biggest impact on my relationship with “beauty” was the fact though that I did not really live in my body. I know that sounds rather odd but to be consciously aware of my body would have meant I would have to be aware of the pain that the abuse caused me.
Often, when I looked in the mirror, I was wondering who that person might be that looked back at me. It seemed so alien to me that my thoughts, feelings and spirit (if you want) might have a place in that face, that body that showed in the mirror.
If you are so far distanced from your body, you do not think about beauty or try to be beautiful. You just exist. You survive and when you just survive there is no time nor will for fashion, make-up or anything that might make you more beautiful.
I cannot say that there was a distinct moment when I suddenly felt beautiful. For me it was a process of growing out of the effects that the abuse caused (and still does to a certain extent): Therapy to understand myself better and learn to managed depression and PTSD, an involvement in spirituality and with that spiritual growth and most of all my husband.
I felt the urge to make myself beautiful and attractive for the first time when I met him. It just happened. Somehow. But it has not stopped even though it is nowhere near a “normal” interest (if anything like that exists) in beauty or fashion.
But the way he smiles at me in the morning or when he comes home; the way he hugs me and kisses me and just the way he treats me makes me feel beautiful. And it does not matter if I wear my wedding dress or my PJ.
His love has brought the natural feeling of “I.AM.B.E.A.U.T.I.F.U.L!” into blooming that has been damage in my childhood but sowed again and been tended to through the healing I have received.