My Eyebrows, Myself

I realized this morning that I had reached an all new low when it came to nitpicking myself and my body.  I was looking at a pic of my face and I found myself obsessing about the shape of my eyebrows.  How I wished they were just a little less fuzzy and a little more symmetrical.  

And then I thought, of all the wonderful things, and wonderful people in my life, I sit here obsessing over something as silly an eyebrow… a little tuft of hair meant to protect our eyes from falling debris.  Yet I spend a great deal of effort trying to make them as perfect as possible.

What I should do is embrace these brows and love them unconditionally… easier said, huh?  This is awfully familiar to the other areas of body shaming I willingly participate in on a daily basis.  Legs, thighs, arms, neck, chin, feet, toes, skin, forehead, belly, boobs, butt – nothing on my body is safe from my own judgement. And I’ve played that “if only” game with all of it.  Who else knows how to play that game? 🙋🏼 If only my belly weren’t so big, I’d be happy.  If only my thighs didn’t rub together, I’d be liked by more people.  If only my eyebrows were perfectly symmetrical, my day would go better.  And on, and on, and on.

But you know what, none of that is true.  I can be happy with bushy, asymmetrical eyebrows.  Or big thighs.  Or a big belly.  You see, there’s a little man who lives in the darkest parts of my mind that tells me these lies.  I just have to learn to tell him to shut the bleep up.  

So for today, I’ve put the duct tape over his mouth and I will love my eyebrows unconditionally 😍



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