The Best Version of Myself

I became confident when I stopped comparing myself to others. I wanted to be the best version of myself--not to change, but to just totally own who I am and work on me.
          
Today I was reading the AUG-SEPT issue of "Mary Janes Farm" magazine and came across the above quote from British plus size model, Iskra Lawrence. I think that I've been putting too much emphasis on what I want to change about myself. Perhaps this is not the best approach to making the life I have be the life I want. Iskra's idea of completely owning who I am, of going deeply into what makes me me and working authentically with that, resonates with my new direction.  

Unfortunately, the people in our lives and society in general can often conspire to make us reject who we are and instead to conform to an image of who we think they want us to be. At its core this is sinful, because it distracts us from God's will for our lives and the purpose for which he created us. In effect, this outside pressure creates an idol. Perceived in that light, we have every reason to turn away from the world and from those who don't support us in becoming the best versions of ourselves.

To be fair, God does use other people to help refine us, to put us through the fire so we can come out pure gold. But so many times in our lives, despite their best intentions, loved ones, teachers, friends, and others fail to approach what they perceive to be our defects of character, talent, or bodily appearance with charity and grace, and they do us more harm than good. If the message is truly from the Holy Spirit, even if it's a hard message, we'll feel the love behind it. If charity is lacking, the message should be dropped like a hot potato. 

As far as society goes, the media images we are bombarded with make it clear that our modern culture has no interest in promoting our authentic personal expression. We are grossly encouraged to conform to very narrow standards of beauty and personality. 

Here's how crazy it got for me last Sunday. I was at a coffee shop, and the barista was breathtakingly beautiful. I didn't even notice what she was wearing, because it was hard to take my eyes off her face. And her makeup was perfect, a glorious use of the color orange. I left the place feeling frumpy and wilted in comparison. 

The barista was very young, probably in her early 20s. A petite black woman with short hair. I'm a tall, curvy white woman who will be 50 in December. My hair is long with a lot of silver in the front. Do you notice that there is no similarity between me and the lovely barista? Why on earth would I be comparing myself to a short woman less than half my age, of another race?! This is pure madness. Why can't we admire another person without coveting those qualities of which we believe we are bereft? 

I can't change my age, my height (and in fact, I like being tall!), or my race (and really, I don't desire to be another race). I don't want short hair. I think what I truly admired about the barista is that she seemed to have such a unique sense of style and beauty and to be very comfortable in her own skin. She was relaxed and confident. She was a flower in the desert. I live in a community without much cultural diversity, and it takes courage to be willing to stand out. Here, to be a gorgeous black woman rocking orange makeup takes guts. 

What if I were totally willing to rock my silver tresses, my middle age curves, and the entirety of who I am without apology, without consulting anyone, without bowing to criticism, without cultural conformity, without anyone's permission but that of my maker? What if, one by one, we all became desert roses, each a unique embodiment of Wisdom the Woman? We might just set the world on fire.