Hating Insecurity


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We have a little tradition at our apartment on Monday nights. It doesn't matter whose over, we must gather round and watch The Bachelor and provide amusing commentary. We mock the girls and their desperateness. We mock their poems. We mock them throwing themselves at the very hunky doctor. We mock and we mock. Mocking is my specialty.

However, I can't keep myself from wondering if I'm belittling their beauty only because I feel inadequate. All my life I have been raised to be the best. The most beautiful, the brightest, the best. Not because I was told this, but because nothing less was expected of me. It comes naturally to a certain extent, the standards of beauty are high in our family. My mother was a model and has aged fantastically. My sister is a beauty queen. My one sister could have been a model if she had chosen not to marry a pastor. My other sister is thirty yet is constantly asked if she is younger than me. They all beat men off with a stick. I have been conscious to gauge my attractiveness since I was quite young. I remember thinking I needed to diet when I was eight years old. I tried to wear makeup at ten. I was anorexic at thirteen. Bulemic at fifteen. I realize the stakes for beauty are high.

I have gotten past the point where I hyperventilate at the thought of second place, but thinking about being mediocre for the rest of my life sets my soul to gnawing.

Let's be frank. What woman doesn't want to be the most beautiful woman in the world? In the eyes of one or many. Success you can work at, but you can't really work at beauty. I don't know what it is that scares me. The thought of not being the best? The thought of not being the most beautiful? The thought of not HAVING someone who I consider my everything? And I, theirs? Perhaps I simply want the knowledge of knowing there could be love.

Though I do wonder, why is it that seeing perfectly goodlooking couples only unsettles me and not average looking ones?

When does the line between holding out for the best and being too demanding, drawn itself? Is it the best thing or the best for right now? What if I hold out for something great, but am not great enough myself? There are so many questions I ask myself. But the more I ask myself, the faster I drive myself into questioning circles.

This is not a marriage hungry post. Far, far from it. After two years of proposals, nothing sends me scuttering back to my cup of tea and stack of books faster than the premature talk of marriage. It's much more the psychotic and crazed ramblings of a woman who has watched reality television a little too long.

I think, stew, pontificate and worry. And then--I realize it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if there is someone out there for me. It doesn't matter if I am the best, the most beautiful, the most successful or the dazzling wonder woman that every man wants to marry.

It does matter that I remember daily I am crucified with Christ. There is no love more complete and perfect. This is the love that makes me beautiful.


6 Responses to “Hating Insecurity”

  1. Anonymous Anonymous 

    You know I was speaking with a friend/pastor the other day and he said something that intrigued me. He said you are either HOT or COLD for Christ. You can not live toeing the line. You either are HOT and can't get enough of Christ and want to do more for HIM or you are COLD. I found that a very thought provoking statement. Certainly one to measure how you are living for Christ. HOT or COLD. Personally I have not been seeking Him, Drawing to Him (besides when I need something) While I don't really drink, dont smoke or anything of that matter... I did have to take into consideration that doing all those things, using people, toeing the line of what is and is not acceptable to God. I had to realize that I am COLD because while I am not living OF the WORLD I am not entirely living of the Lord either... Certainly leads to many othr questions about how one lives...

  2. Anonymous Anonymous 

    Your last line, PC, was the most profound (and true!) statement I've read in a long time. :)

  3. Anonymous Anonymous 

    Thank you Sparkle for that... exhortation.

    SC- Thank you. That is so easy to forget though, isn't it?

  4. Anonymous Anonymous 

    It just doesn't matter because all the really good looking girls are going to go out with the guys from Camp Mohawk anyways.

  5. Anonymous Anonymous 

    True, PC, true. We forget to 'keep our eyes on the prize'...

  6. Anonymous Anonymous 

    It's so simple, yet we make it so difficult.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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